


Oh Alpha, My Alphas (Amas Veritas)

by AmalgamWriter



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Adult Pack, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Asexual character (minor), But it's going to take a while to get there, Demisexual character (major), Derek and Laura are Twins, Isaac Erica and Boyd aren't from BH, M/M, Magic!Stiles, Magical Tattoos, Slow build but not really?, Tattooed!Pack, There will be sex, Tight knit packs, You don't need a damn blowtorch to tattoo a werewolf either, alpha!Derek, human alpha!stiles, some freaking wolfbane will do around here, tattooed!stiles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2015-04-16
Packaged: 2018-03-13 14:29:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 34,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3385199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmalgamWriter/pseuds/AmalgamWriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles Stilinski is your average, everyday business owner who happens to be a human spark, and oh yeah, the alpha of the Beacon Hills pack. But hey, he's been the alpha since he was 16 and it's been fine for the last 8 years. What could possible cause any bigger problems than he's already faced? Queue a face no one thought would return (and who knew, the man just happened to be a damn werewolf and an alpha of his own right at that...fuck).</p><p>Derek Hale was never average. By the time he was 15, he was awkward and the first beautiful face to give him the time of day easily got her claws into him, nearly ruining his entire life with the spark of a match. Thankfully, his twin sister Laura saved him from that fate. 12 years later, fate decided that a showdown between him and a rogue alpha should make him return to the town he never thought he'd step foot in again. Too bad the territory's already claimed. </p><p>Should he stay and fight for it? Should they share what used to be his families? And how the <i>fuck<i> can a human be an alpha of a werewolf pack? Even one as strange and powerful as Stiles Stilinski...</i></i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Who Says An Alpha Needs Red Eyes?

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to state for the record that you can blame this story on Practical Magic. Thus the second half of the title (which is the spell from the movie for the perfect man and also, Latin for "you love the truth" essentially or "true love"). 
> 
> A _lot_ is different in this story. From what happened with Kate, and the fact that Derek and Laura are twins (and gods I feel like twins are going to be a theme, I am so sorry but I'm not even sorry), to how the Beacon Hills pack got changed, to Derek's betas, all of it. It should all be explained in the individual notes for the chapters, should it not already be explained in the story though. (Like if something really fucking weird is about to go down and you guys need a bit of a heads up and I couldn't work it into the story.) 
> 
>  
> 
> _Trigger warnings will be added to the ENDS of the chapters so that it doesn't spoil anything. Thus, you can just hit see notes and boom!_
> 
>  
> 
> _This is the absolutely shortest chapter of the entire story. It’s just kind of establishing how the Beacon Hills pack got from 16 to 24, who got bit, and all that. Really, it’s just a prologue. This is completely non-canon compliant. Just about everything in the story has been twisted around and changed. Some of the base facts are there (like Stiles epic crush on Lydia) but other things (like what happened with Kate) are completely different. Mhmm._
> 
>  
> 
> _Please enjoy this really weird story._
> 
> 8/13/2015 - This story is now officially on hiatus due to my Marvel muses moving in and booting my Teen Wolf muses to the curb.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The blood spilled would always bother them but the reasons would make it better. They had to protect themselves, their loved ones, the town, and all it held.

Stiles Stilinski’s life hadn’t been normal since he was 16 and learned werewolves weren't just a terrible horror movie cliche. Though he gave them mad props for being so much cooler than anything _Twilight_ could give the masses. Granted Christina Ricci as a werewolf in Cursed...well hollywood at least knew how to give the masses _hot_ werewolves. Even if they couldn't seem to get it _right._ And Hugh Jackman as a werewolf? That was so something he could get behind.

It’d all started when a psychotic rouge alpha decided the sleepy little haven of Beacon Hills was the perfect place to start losing his furry shit completely. He only bit Scott at first, though he didn't fucking stick around to _explain anything_. Like the sudden molecular changes going on in his best friend. No, that was all on Stiles to figure out.

Of course, Stiles did everything he could to help his best friend out. The guilt alone made drove him to near obsession. The only reason they’d been in the woods that night was because of Stiles. He wanted to go looking for the other half of some dead body. (Which disgusts Stiles to no end now. She was someone’s daughter! Someone mourned her!)

It was his fault they were stumbling around in the dark. And it was his fault he lied to his dad instead of pulling Scott out of the bushes and dragging him into the same trouble Stiles had gotten into. At least then they both would’ve safely gotten home. Of course, Scott, the freaking idiot saint he was (and still is) never blamed him and that had made the guilt that much worse at the time. He was actually pretty happy to be without his asthma.

The woman ended up being Lorelei Haskoli, a local college student and avid hiker. To this day, no one knows why the alpha ripped her in two but spared Scott with only the bite and a few scratches. Stiles will always be grateful though. He would have died along with Scott, even if he hadn’t been there physically.

The deaths continued, as did the bites. The frequency and choices never making any sense. After Scott, the alpha bit Jackson Whittemore (and oh wasn’t that just fan-fucking-tastic. Teaching the douche what he knew when he knew so little? Thank you Scott for being the muscle. Getting him to submit? That had been so much fun though. No really, he had enjoyed it so fucking much. And teaching him control visavie a heart monitor, lacrosse balls, and insults. So many insults.)

After Jackson (and an alarming amount of deaths, thankfully not _all_ human or human adjacent even) their constant fucking nightmare bit Lydia Martin _**and**_ brought the Argent family to town. They learned two things; banshees are a thing that exist (and cannot, in fact, be turned) and that the reason the world thinks silver can kill werewolves is because of an idiotic mistranslation.

You see, Argent means silver in French and as long as there have been werewolves, there have been Argent’s hunting them (by their “code” _of course_ ).

When Danny was bit, Stiles started to think the alpha wanted an invite to the cool kids table (mostly sarcastically). It did have him concerned about who would be next because the elite three were the powerhouse of the high school social standings. Where would one go from there if that was the alpha’s goal? And the murders? They were even more strange and erratic (and working his father into the fucking ground).

In the end, the young huntress fell in love with the forbidden werewolf (he refused to make a Romeo and Juliet comparison because they **would not** end up dead), Stiles learned the pack needed an alpha and became just that, and together the 6 of them put the rouge alpha down.

As a pack.

6 16 and 17 year olds, complacent in what could be considered 1st degree murder since there was definitely premeditation with malice aforethought, though with some serious self-defense thrown in there for good measure. Stiles had dealt the killing blow though. He didn’t want any of his pack trying to live and breathe with that holding onto them. The funny thing was, he never felt once that crushing weight he was expecting or waiting for.

The man he’d killed had hurt his family (because that’s what was pack, period) too much. Stiles would never feel guilt. He deserved what he got.

That was all in the past though. All a part of what got them all here today sure, but he, and the pack, fought fucking tooth and dirty nail to get where they were today. He just wished there wasn’t so much blood on all their hands.

Even if _none_ of it was innocent.

They were a powerful, albeit strange, pack. That meant enemies and Beacon Hills was a beacon in and of itself. The blood spilled would always bother them but the reasons would make it better. They had to protect themselves, their loved ones, the town, and all it held.

  
  


 


	2. And I Will Try, To Fix You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We must teach our children  
> To smell the Earth  
> To taste the rain  
> To touch the wind  
> To see things grow  
> To hear the sun rise  
>  And night fall  
> To care
> 
> -John Cleal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big plot point: Jackson was never the Kanima, and the events that drove Matt crazy never happened. He's still crazy just not in that way. 
> 
> This chapter is mostly just to see what life is like for Stiles and to see what things are like within the pack dynamic wise, though not too much is revealed yet. 
> 
> Derek and Stiles won't actually meet for a few chapters. I think it's...chapter 5? 
> 
> Fun fact: I actually write old school, in a notebook, and then type it all up in Google Docs for editing. 
> 
> My beta is my ninja cat Pepper. All mistakes are his furry asses fault!

The Healing Touch was Stiles baby. It sat on the corner of Main St and Larson St. The outside was simple. Since the store was on the corner, he got two half walls of nothing but windows that went all the way to the top of the tall ceiling.

Every few weeks, Stiles paid his friend Wade to come paint the top half of the windows in two complementary scenes based on whatever theme he pulled from the suggestion box that sat next to his old time cash register inside.

This week, the theme was _Disney Musicals_. So Wade, in his ever loving glory, decided to paint a battle between the furniture from Beauty and the Beast and the mice from Cinderella (who had back up from the birds and were using pins and needles as swords). It was both adorable and amazing.

The inside of the shop was designed to be both simple, functional, strange, and perfect. It screamed Stiles in so many ways. It was a place of ease and comfort, painted in black and white to allow the absolutely unique decorations that littered the shop to be the focal points.

The shelves were built into the walls, sunk into them rather than hanging onto the wood. There was a counter directly across from the entrance, that stretched half the store. On it were little oddities, like stuffed wolves, Yoda ready to offer his advice, and even Pascal was wrapped around the register, judging them all.

Another strange addition to the shop, that he didn’t know of many other’s having, was the area for the children that inevitably got dragged in with their parents. There were toys, little chairs and cushions to sit on, books to read. All of it. Some moms even came in and gossiped while they shopped, leaving their kids in the corner. And yet, he never minded.

It had been 8 years since the rogue alpha had come into the lives of Stiles and the Beacon Hills pack and 2 years since he’d opened the store. Life was never boring and rarely quiet but as Stiles slipped his key into the lock of his little shop and let himself in, he had no idea just how much that was going to change.

Stiles loved being the one to open the shop. Each member of the pack could, they technically knew how, but only Danny and Lydia were legally on his payroll. He let them both work a day or two a week, just so he had time to make stock without interruptions and relax (because Lydia would kill him otherwise).

He was actually a damn fucking proud alpha. All of his pack were where they’d always dreamed, despite the losses and the hard choices. (He would never forgive Gerard Argent for putting Allison in the position where she had to kill her grandfather to save her alpha.)

Allison was a damn fine deputy and in line to be sheriff when his father finally retired (which the entire pack kept hinting about. Especially his new wife, Melissa. And wasn't that a marriage that he and Scott had been ecstatic about, even if Scott had no idea they were dating at first...idiot.) Scott had taken over the vet clinic when his mentor had decided it was time for him to move on (after he’d taught Scott all he could about animals and Stiles all he could about the supernatural). Lydia was the recipient of a Fields Medal, a genius (they’d tied for valedictorian so HA! and actually were only a few points apart IQ wise) and taught at the local college twice a week. Her class was the hardest to get into and even harder to _stay_ in. Danny owned his own little consulting firm. He set up electronic security for high profile clients or tested existing security. Though since Danny had once managed to hack into the FBI without getting caught because Rafael McCall pissed them off, the tests always failed. Of them all, Jackson had taken the longest to find his calling. In the end though, he found happiness in accounting. Well, managing other peoples money, which he’d done for the pack since high school anyway. Though now he did it for everything from businesses to personal finances to the pack account that they all contributed to.

Walking to the counter, he took a deep breath, letting the familiar scents wash over him. He wasn’t a werewolf, he didn’t have the nose of one, but the scents were still strong enough to bring comfort to him.

This place was like his second home and he truly loved it. His eyes flicked to the childrens corner, making sure the toys were in order and found himself reading the poem painted on the wall as he did every day.

  


_**We must teach our children** _

_**To smell the Earth** _

_**To taste the rain** _

_**To touch the wind** _

_**To see things grow** _

_**To hear the sun rise** _

                 _ **And night fall**_

_**To care** _

         _ **-John Cleal**_

  


His lips tugged into a smile, content and warm. He and the pack didn’t have any children yet - though Scott and Allison had officially started trying. But he loved them. He’d always seen the pack as more than just a responsibility. They were like his kids. Jackson had even accidently called him dad once and never really stopped. He took care of him, all of them. He loved them more than he ever imagined he could. These people, who once upon a time couldn’t care less about him, were now the most important people in his life. Funny how the world works like that.

As he went through getting things ready for the day, he thought about that, about his desire to have a child. Over the last 8 years, he’d tried dating but it was hard. They never felt right after a few weeks and sex was _always_ awkward - no matter what gender. 

There’s a price for being a human alpha. Sure, Stiles always healed in the end. The tattoos he had even helped a lot, the power they held, fueled by the spark in him, accelerating it. There’s no tattoo that can stop the scars though. They offer protection, increased healing, better reflexes, strength. So much.

How do you explain the scars though? So as much as he wanted a child, the actions required to get said child were a little too difficult.

The chime of the door made him pull his head out of it’s reverie and go be a normal 24 year old and the adult he was supposed to be. With a smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes, he turned from where he was putting his things down behind the counter and that smile slipped away. In it’s place a frown filled with concern bloomed.

“Cathy? What’s wrong?” Stiles asked softly. He stepped closer, settling a gentle hand on her arm across the counter. She looked exhausted. There were bags under her eyes that spoke of someone who hadn’t slept in a week. No amount of makeup could hide them, not that she looked like she was even trying to at this point.

She looked almost startled by his voice and swayed slightly, as though she’d nearly been asleep standing up. “Stiles, I need help,” she whimpered. It broke his heart. “Joseph isn’t sleeping, and the doctors just keep fucking saying it’s normal! I haven’t slept in...I can’t even remember...and my husband...huh...that PRICK! He’s decided to go stay at his _mothers_ so he _can_ sleep. I’m going out of my mind. I had to _beg_ Cindy to watch him so I could come here. _Please Stiles._ ” By the end, Cathy’s voice broke and there were tears rolling down her cheeks.

Without thought, Stiles hand fell from her arm and he was scurrying around the counter. He had the older woman wrapped in a tight hug as soon as he was close enough, a hand rubbing the back of her head. He felt that strong heat of anger and protection rising in him. His alpha instincts were coming out to play. He wanted nothing more than to go find Marcus Taylor and kill him. While Stiles was loving and protective, he was also vicious and vindictive. A sweet asshole as Lydia loved to call him. 

When Cathy had gotten pregnant, he’d wondered how long it would be before her husband truly fucked up. Gods he hated that bastard. Marcus Taylor was a selfish, self centered man who thought the world owed him something. He was Jackson at his worst, times about 10.

“Okay Cathy, let’s get you a cup of coffee to at least keep you on your feet so you don’t fall asleep on me right here and now,” Stiles murmured to her softly, guiding her to one of the stools positioned along the counter. Like he’d said before, he owned a very unique shop that he loved more than anything. “Then I’m going to give you something for what I think might be bad colic as well as something for you so when Joseph finally sleeps, you’ll have the best night sleep since you got pregnant.”

Stiles gentle guidance seemed to be just what Cathy needed. Once she was seated, he was thankful not for the first time, that his coffee maker was on a timer and it’d already brewed what _he_ thought was the best coffee you could get out of a pot. He was quick in getting the coffee to her (with a cup for himself too because fuck if he didn’t need it) with a gentle smile. He idly wondered how much she'd already consumed just to get herself over here. Once he was sure she wasn’t going to fall over, he moved around the shop, getting her small box of tonics around. Something for her to add to Joseph’s bottle and as well as tea for herself.

One thing Stiles knew he did really differently than any other shop, was his method of sealing his packages. He grabbed a light metallic blue wax stick, lighting it and letting it drip over the center of the box where the folds met. When there was a coin sized pool, he pressed one of his many wax seal stampers into it, giving it a few moments to cool before pulling it free and smiling at the baby foot prints sent into it. The seal spoke of the fact that it was for an infant and thus safe for them as well.

He couldn’t remember what started Stiles love of wax seals or why he decided to use that as his safety seal so to speak on the packages but he had so many wax seals at this point, it was getting a little ridiculous. He loved them all though. Some he kept at the store, but a lot he kept at home. Like the seal of the pack symbol. That had been a gift on his 18th birthday. It had meant so much. It had come with an accompanying tattoo of the same design.

Walking back over to Cathy, he set it in front of her and slipped his phone out, sending out one of his standard texts. “Here you go. You’re going to go home, and follow the directions on each of the packages, both of you catching up on the sleep you so desperately need, and then you are going to wake up and kick that piece of shit who dares call himself your husband to the curb. He can stay the fuck at his mothers. If you need help in any way at all with Joseph or getting rid of that scum, just let me know and my friends and I will help you. Or go to Melissa McCall-Stilinski. I’ll tell her to expect you.”

Cathy’s eyes went wide at Stiles’ demands but didn’t argue. It was kind of hard to when he had that hint of alpha in his voice. She simply nodded. It was both Stiles human compassion and alpha instincts driving him to protect her and her cub...baby...whatever.

“How much do I owe you?” she asked, nodding her mess of dark red curls towards the package instead.

Stiles shook his head. “Not a damn thing. I texted my friend Danny to either drive you or you and your car home. Your payment is taking care of Joseph and bringing him in for a check up later this week. You have to take care of yourself too, while you're at it.”

Cathy looked like she was going to argue but the look on Stiles’ face told her it was useless. One thing everyone in Beacon Hills knew was that Stiles Stilinski was fiercely stubborn. Just like his father. Protective too, especially of the little ones. Shame they tended to remember the hyperactive child that talked too much, more than the man he became long before he could even vote.

“Thank you Stiles. For everything.” Cathy chuckled a little, shaking her head in an almost disbelieving manner. “You know, in the pregnancy group I went to, one of the moms who was on her second or third kid said that all the playgroup moms would rather bring their kids here than a doctor. She said you care a fuck ton more and _your shit_ actually works. That was why I came here when the morning sickness didn’t stop with my first trimester. I don’t know how you do it Stiles Stilinski but I know Beacon Hills would be lost without you.”

Stiles felt his chest tighten and his eyes wet a little. It was hard to explain to anyone - even the pack - just how much that meant to him. Ever since he clung to his mother’s hand as he felt her slip away, he wanted to take care of people. It was one of the biggest factors in opening The Healing Touch (not that it was a hard decision by any means). Hell even their [pack symbol](https://40.media.tumblr.com/e38ef1a768ae676b9cdf0a09765c90fb/tumblr_njylvz8fr01uo7llfo1_250.jpg) \- a mix of a heart, celtic knot, and triquetra - spoke of his and his pack’s desire to love and protect.

Walking back around the counter again, he gave Cathy another tight hug, thanking her for her kind words. A couple tears managed to escape but neither of them mentioned it as he brushed them aside. Thankfully Danny walked in before he could really start crying. He was an ugly crier. No one wanted to see that shit. No one. Especially not an emotional, sleep deprived woman who could barely stand. 

Something that no one had understood when he’d first made the decision was the fact that Danny was Stiles’ second. After a few too many problems in high school where Scott had been too busy with Allison to be reliable, Stiles had realized that Scott could never be his right hand. No, Danny was the one who had always been there. He questioned him at the right moments, but followed orders when Stiles needed him too.

“Hey Danny! Thanks for coming on such short notice. I need you to take Cathy home. Make sure she gets inside and settled alright. Maybe give Joseph his bottle for her. You know just how to administer the tonic and you do have such a _gentle_ touch. She really deserves a break,” Stiles suggested, handing his beta the box. His eyes told him everything, along with his words. Danny would take away whatever pain he could for the baby, and the tonic would help lull him to sleep.

Danny simply nodded. He was smart and knew exactly what Stiles expected of him. He, once again, found himself so glad Danny was one of the people the alpha had bitten. Even if they’d all almost died far too many times. He was glad Danny had never been really upset about the bite, as well. It made his happiness guilt free.

Stiles gave Cathy one last squeeze, ran his hand along Danny’s neck to scent mark and comfort him, then let them go.

After they were gone, he took a moment to breath. That little bit of hate he held for Marcus Taylor being pushed out with each breath as he centered himself once again. He learned long ago not to let his hate or anger consume him. It was far too dangerous. He’d almost lost complete control when some idiot thought his dad would be a good way to get to him. Even the human alpha needed to anchor himself sometimes.

“Alright Stilinski, pull it together. You have shit to make and supplies to order,” he growled to himself. With a sharp shake of his head, he headed into the back of the shop. The place where the magic happened so to speak. Actually, literally to speak, too. 

This area was probably his haven. It was completely warded, like all the pack houses and properties (that weren’t open to the public) but had the added bonus of having a secondary room where he could prepare all things mystical and naturally healing alike (because some of the things in the store were just good for you, no magic required).

His secondary room was somewhere the wolves of the pack couldn’t go unfortunately. There were too many things that were hazardous to their health. Between oh so fucking many strains of wolfsbane, monkshood, mistletoe, and even daffodil alone, he knew the wolves could die from the wrong container being open at the wrong moment or something being spilled. Granted he rarely opened them since they weren’t used in any of his health recipes for the store (because things like wolfsbane were deadly to humans too, just not as extremely). He still wouldn’t risk it, so the door was made of mountain ash because he loved them too much.

Stiles wasn’t stupid though. There was a failsafe, and a fucking failsafe for his failsafe that would let them get to him in an emergency. There were actually quite a few things that could be toxic to him too in the room but no where near like what the wolves would experience. Where was the fun, if there wasn’t a little danger though?

Punching his mothers birthday into the keypad that locked his “Potion’s Room”, as the sign Lydia had jokingly designed, proclaimed, he waited for the familiar beep and click that told him the room was open. It was a bit of a mess, as always, he realized, when he got inside. Organized chaos, just like Stiles himself.

Directly across from the door was a huge marble bench that took up the whole wall and out 3 feet deep. On the left hand side, a sink was sank into an alcove, much like the shelves out front were sank into the walls. Scattered all around the room, over shelves, along the bench, in boxes under said bench, were the ingredients that he used in everything from lotions to help cure psoriasis or rosacea, astringents for acne, tonics for everything from nightmares to fertility. It was absolutely heaven to Stiles.

Outside of that mess, were his tools of trade. Stiles favorite black marble mortar and pestle, the scales he used to measure down as small a unit as needed, the knives need for chopping some of the bigger things (like the items for the teas), and even an honest to goodness fucking cast iron cauldron that he cooked all his brews in over a hidden burner built into the bench. Damn thing weighed nearly 15 pounds empty and was a bitch to move. He was thankful he’d gotten a hell of a lot stronger over the last 8 years. (Thanks to werewolves, he’d even made first line by senior year and scored the winning goal for the championship game. That was a high point to go out on.)

Looking at the whiteboard next to the door, Stiles had to laugh a little at the list found there. Allison had obviously come ‘round to hand out with his strawberry blonde goddess while she did inventory. He loved his sister-in-law and beta (doesn’t, nor will it ever, matter that she’s human and a 90% retired hunter). She was so badass but still a little fluffy kitten - that will never hear that be uttered out loud.

Under the list of products he got to intersperse his day creating, she’d written;

  


_Stiles!_

_Help! You need to come over and have a gamer_

_night! I need an actual challenge. I pulled the SNES_

_and the 64 out. We tried playing Goldeneye together._

_There were tears. Actual tears Stiles. He cried, he was_

_that bad. I reduced my husband to tears! I DEMAND_

_TIME WITH MY ALPHA AND_ _BROTHER. Don’t make me_

_use Lyds. I’ll fight dirty._

_-Alycat_

  


Brother or not, Stiles broke out laughing. Fucking christ, werewolves didn’t have any advantage when it came to video games. That was a level playing field. One that Scott seriously failed at. Ah how much fun it was to exploit...until it got boring. One could only win so much before one wanted an actual challenge.

He pulled his phone out, making sure to turn the volume down so it wouldn’t startle him. He had scars from _that_ mistake. Next he pulled up Allison’s contact, eyes softening around the edges as he saw the picture of her dressed up as Maureen from Rent in her cat outfit with Alycat as her name. How apropos. (The broadway version of Maureen, during the New Years Rocking Eve; The Breaking Back Into The Building Party, of course. Stiles had went as Angel that year; from the earlier part where she had the Santa suit coat on. Though he still loved her line during that particular scene. "I was a Boy Scout once, and a Brownie...until some brat got scared." They'd made the entire pack dress up as the cast from Rent during that Halloween actually.)

  


**To Alycat:**

Surely he’s not as

bad as you’re saying

  


Oh Stiles knew just how bad Scott was at Goldeneye. The game had been banned as kids for the sake of their friendship. Just like Operation, Battleship, Chinese Checkers...fucking _**Jenga!**_ Okay so most physical board games were a bad idea between ages 4 to 12. They got _way_ too competitive sometimes.

They never spoke of the Monopoly incident of ‘03. Melissa and Claudia weren’t sure who had thrown the first punch so they weren’t sure who should be upset with whom over the broken bones both boys had.

  


**From Alycat:**

Fuck you Stiles.

You didn’t have to

watch a grown

man cry over a video

game and his wife

beating him. I swear,

I will get a wolf to

e v i s c e r a t e   

you!!!!!!!!!!!

  


**To Alycat:**

How about today after

your shift ends? I can

come over and we

can run around the

library trying to shoot

each other without

any consequences

this time : D I so call

Xenia though. Pulling

the alpha card if I

have to!!!

  


**From Alycat:**

I think I scared Parrish

with my growling lol. It was

one time and we didn’t hurt

each other! Mostly because

we had blanks in the guns…

Fine you can have her.

I’ll make due with Janus.

No, Oddjob.

  


**To Alycat:**

Someone’s been married

to a wolf for too long ; )

Good thing Parrish knows

what’s what. I still say that

was the best way to work

out our aggressions man.

I figured you woulda went

with Mayday tbh.

  


**From Alycat:**

Shut it oh Alpha, my

Alpha. You have the

best growl for a non-wolf

ever. Mmm you’re so right.

Paintball next time though.

I want to cause actual pain.

So, Thai or Mongolian for 

dinner?

  


Stiles grinned down at his phone, pulling up the Pack Calendar that was synced through Google to check just when Allison’s shift ended since he had the most flexible work schedule of all of them. The store opened at the same time every day but jokingly closed with the pull of moon (which just meant whenever the fuck Stiles decided, or whoever was working that day). Every member of the pack was assigned a color, and each of them put in everything from their work schedules to doctor’s appointments. Even little things like plans to go to the movies - which it looked like Danny was doing tomorrow - were added.

The calendar had been Lydia’s idea originally. Just a way to know who had classes when, when they'd started college. Slowly it became so much more. It turned into a way for them to keep track of each other. They were an extremely close pack and they didn’t give two shits about what people thought of that fact.

When it came time to start buying houses, they found a nice cul-da-sac that butted right up against the preserve. Stiles bought the largest house, the pack house, right in the middle. Jackson, Lydia, and Danny bought the slightly smaller house on the left, and Scott and Allison bought the smallest (but by no means small) house on the right. The cul-da-sac was thankfully down a bit of a road so they didn’t have neighbors. It was perfect and saved them from having to buy land and build their own houses for now. They could be close, with no fears of being seen as weird. 

At 17, the pack had sat down and talked about the future. They knew they would need money for a good future not only individually but together as a pack. Between two geniuses, two near geniuses, and two brilliant minds, they made a few plans, and worked hard. Between using some of the Whittemore and Martin fortunes in the stock markets with an algorithm of Lydia’s design and all of them getting some kind of job, they managed to get a LOT of money amassed for 6 teenagers. Money they kept from their parents until they were old enough for it to be free from their hands.

Money they used to cover what scholarships, grants, and certain members parents (*cough*Lydia&Jackson*cough*) didn’t cover, because they refused to have student loans. They also used the money to help out other students who were struggling, that they had become friends with. Because Scott was just that kind of freaking person...Though Stiles still tended to only really risk himself for those he loved, he was a lot like Scott in that respect now. Giving what he had no need for to those who needed it so much more.

That changed as they got older though. Now, they all gave back. Both to the town and to at least one charity of the persons choosing every month. For Stiles, it was usually something for dementia research. No one should lose their mother like he'd lost his. 

They were homeowners by 20, Stiles, Danny, and Jackson were business owners by 22 (with Danny owning his business before his freaking home), and life was damn good by 24. Despite there being a threat or two here and there, they’d gotten...complacent.

Moody would be **_so_** disappointed in them. 


	3. Don’t You Worry, Don’t You Worry Child (See Heaven’s Got A Plan)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As much as Derek didn’t want to do it, he knew this would be the only way for them to survive. It was obvious by this point that help wasn’t coming. With a twisting stomach, he ripped his claws through the alpha’s throat, just as the man managed to rip out a good chunk of his side. His dying revenge. Not that it mattered, not really. He would heal. All that mattered was that they were alive and there was this power singing through his blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings in end notes. 
> 
> Plot point: Paige never happened~! Prior to becoming alpha, Derek's eyes were golden. He never had innocent blood on his hands. 
> 
> Okay so I couldn't resist. Since I'm already writing chapter 5 and typing up chapter 4, I really wanted to give you guys this, just to let you see what's going on with the other major character group! Here's the introduction of the Hale pack! Hope you love them as much as I do. While this is mostly from Derek's point of view, the beginning is from an unambiguous or general point of view. 
> 
> The town the Hale's moved to is real but none of the locations are. There's actually a reason for the choice. Google map the town and zoom out a bit, look around the surrounding area if you can't find the second one. One's in town, one's just out of town. ; ) 
> 
> Enjoy!

Norwich, New York is a small town in Chenango county. It’s one of those little hamlets with only around 7,000 people filling it. The town’s surrounded by 2 rivers that merge together at the south end of town, leaving only the north end accessible by car. The rest, well there are foot bridges of course, if you could ever find the damn things.

Derek remembered moving to Norwich when he was 15. All the reasons behind it. What he’d nearly caused. It reminded him of Beacon Hills, in it’s own way. Big enough not to know everyone by name, small enough not to be a stranger to anyone. It had made getting through what that _vile woman_ did that much easier.

15 year old Derek Hale had thought himself invincible but really, what teenage didn’t. Being a werewolf simply made that feeling all the stronger. He knew all about the hunters sure, those who saw them as nothing more than animals. He knew of the Argent’s, the royalty of the hunting world, the first hunting family. None of it mattered in his mind though. It wasn't real because it'd never come close to touching him. 

Of course when the older beauty that was Kate Argent approached him, she didn’t use that name. No Kathrine “But you can call me Kate” Ardouin was very careful when she worked on seducing him. Her rough lips and demanding hands were nothing like he imagined his first anything to be. He'd pictured soft caresses and gentle words, but she was anything but that. 

She convinced him they had to keep it secret. She was so much older than him and could go to jail if anyone found out. She had her claws dug in so deep that he would’ve done anything by that point, so getting him to keep it secret only took a few whispered words and well placed touches. After all, he thought it love, didn't he? It's what he wanted it to be. 

It worked, for nearly 2 months, it worked. She slowly manipulated him, getting him to sneak her in, to show her the secret tunnels that led into the basement “So I can get to you easier, that way we can be together more baby. Don’t you want that?”.

Kate had had nearly everything she needed. One thing she had never factored in though was that special bond between twins. Especially twins like Derek and Laura, two people who had been nearly inseparable since birth. When Kate had started to pull Derek deeper into her web, she had pulled her away from his twin. It made Laura suspicious when Derek started acting different and started to come home smelling strange.

She didn’t tell anyone about her feelings, no. She didn’t want to get her twin in trouble if it was nothing after all. The knot in her stomach said it wasn’t anything good though. Instead, she watched her twin closer and waited. When he said he was tired and didn’t feel like joining the family for the new moon run, when the kids have the most control so they needn’t fear and can let go, she knew something was wrong. There was nothing Derek enjoyed more than being with his family.

Laura waited 2 hours, pretended like nothing was wrong and played with her youngest sister Amelia, and bided her time. When enough time had passed, she said she was starting to feel pretty tired too and headed back home. She knew no one would follow. They would just think it was a twin thing. Whenever it was a Derek and Laura thing, it was always a “twin” thing. Like having an unnaturally strong pack bond. 

She only had to get close enough to hear the sounds inside to know that she really didn’t want to go in. Jesus. Thankfully Laura’s twin senses were tingling (which both of them agreed were seriously a real thing), and she messaged her mother to come home.

To say she never needed to see her twin being used by an older woman was an understatement. To say Derek never wanted Laura to see him in that kind of position was an even bigger understatement. But when Laura got up there, she ripped Kate off of Derek and pinned her naked body down while growling at her twin to at least put some pants on while just growling at Kate in general, eyes flashing dangerously, claws digging into her neck.

Derek had never felt so humiliated in his life as when his mother came in. Even worse when Talia saw an Argent naked in her underaged sons bedroom. And then Talia told him that he wasn’t going to start another supernatural war between the Hale’s and the Argent’s (as had happened far too many times in the past). No, she was going to ruin Kate Argent’s life and press charges, while Kate screamed about what she was going to do to them. (Arson had always been a favorite of hers.)

One phone call to the sheriff’s department and it was the start of the end. (Though it took a lot of convincing from then Deputy Stilinski to get Laura off of the still naked Kate. She really _really_ wanted to rip her damn throat out for daring to hurt her twin like that. Thankfully she'd reined her wolf in before he showed up though.)

The Hale family stuck around for the trial, watching as Kate Argent was handed a sentence of 4 short years in federal prison. Sadly California’s statutory rape laws were pretty lax. The bitch wouldn’t even need to register as a sex offender when she got out. It definitely wasn't enough for them. 

Once the trial was over, Talia Hale decided that moving far from the place that almost killed them (and the family that now had a vendetta against them) was a good idea. So she got in touch with her cousin and found some nice unclaimed territory near where he lived. They moved a week later.

For the last 13 years, things had been good for Derek. When he started school in Norwich, he met 3 outcasts and became near instant friends with them. They were 3 years younger than him, but he really couldn’t care less. Within 6 months, Talia had adopted one of them, making him Isaac Lahey-Hale and had given him the bite soon after that. Then came Erica, but sadly it was because she was dying from a seizure and resulting complications. She was happy not to have to live her life with seizures anymore though, so it didn't matter to her. In the end, Boyd joined the family too, the bite for him coming shortly thereafter, his reasons his own. 

While Talia had adopted all 3 of them, only Isaac took the Hale name legally. For Boyd it was because of the fact that his last name was his name and for Erica, she wanted to keep it because she wanted that small connection to her family for a while longer, even if they weren’t the best of parents. It didn’t make them any less of Hale’s than Derek though.

The four of them (and occasionally Laura) became inseparable. They went to college together - each pursuing their own degrees - before coming back home and getting a house together. Though Derek and Laura drifted apart a lot, because of what happened when he was 15 with that _vile woman._

The house they got together sat towards the edge of the territory, at the north end of town. Some may have saw it as some sort of statement, being so far from his mothers house (which was also the pack house since it was where the Alpha lived) but those people would be idiots. The truth of the matter was simple. The house was in the perfect position to walk to the library (for Derek and Isaac), the bakery (for Boyd), the best spa in the tri-county area (for Erica _and_ Isaac), and the 24 hour diner that doesn’t seem to know how to make a bad anything (for fucking _all_ of them).

Like always though, Derek and company had managed to make what would seem like a horrible decision (but was really a gift in disguise) without even realizing it. Having a town surrounded on 3 sides by rivers leaves only one way to really get in and out. Especially since most people had no idea where the fuck the foot bridges were. Living right next to said entrance with the nearest back up a few precious minutes away? Not very bright, should something happen…

 

* * *

 

“Derek, if I want you to come get a fucking milkshake and pie with us, you will. You are out numbered Hale. Move your ass!” Erica growled, flashing her golden eyes at Derek, who was _trying_ to read 5 People You Meet In Heaven. Of course, him trying to do something never stopped his sister. “I can always start singing _Do You Want To Build A Snowman_ …”

And there went Derek’s book. Ever since Laura’s twin girls Sofia and Maisie had gotten Frozen for Christmas (thank you Peter, you asshole), the entire family had been forced to listen to either the movie or the twins (who sounded damn good for 6) sing the songs. _Repeatedly_. Each family member had a favorite song to hate. Isaac alway looked like he was about to have a complete breakdown every time Fixer Upper is played.

Even the normally stoic Boyd (or Cobra Bubbles as the twins love to call him and the three of them love to tease him with) growls when they play Love Is An Open Door. Not even Tangled was that bad. Though Derek _had_ stabbed himself with a steak knife in the thigh after hearing Mother Knows Best for the 7th time... **that night**.

Maybe they should institute a family wide ban on musicals. That wasn’t too unreasonable, was it? It really didn’t sound like it was. Otherwise someone was going to end up dead. 

Probably Peter. 

Preferably Peter. 

“If so much as one bar comes out of your mouth, you will be hearing Let It Go in your fucking _nightmares_ , got it?” he growled back. Getting up, Derek grabbed his phone and wallet, shoving both into his green plaid sleep pants.

There was absofuckinglutely no reason to get dressed to go get a snack at nearly 1 in the morning. Not at The Violet Pig. Hell, if Riona was working, odds were good on her being in her own damn pajamas. The diner was just that kind of fuck it all place. That’s why they loved it so much.

Now that his book had been taken away though, the prospect of getting a strawberry-banana-marshmallow shake (do not judge) and a big slice of Riona’s Funeral Pie. So called because, hey if you die because you eat it, that’s all on you. No one is quite sure just what’s in it but it’s to die for. Or fuck, maybe he should screw the pie and get some of her Slutty Brownies. Or both. Yes both.

“Alright Head Bitch, let’s go,” Derek sighed, trying to pretend like he wasn’t kind of happy to be going. Never show her that she won, she would use it to her advantage far too much.  He followed her out of his rooms into the common area so to speak (each of them had their own large bedroom, bathroom, and study).

Isaac looked much like him, his blond curls a mess, wearing thin cotton sleep pants that had been washed a few too many times but he knew were too comfortable to throw out and his favorite ratty tee. He and Erica looked enough alike that the family had started calling them the Golden Twins (their behavior had nothing to do with it, the little shits) and it had just...stuck.

Boyd was wearing his work attire; some comfortable jeans and a stained green crewneck tee. He couldn’t remember if Boyd was coming or going from his job at Timeless Interlude, the bakery where he was employed. He always said there was no point in ruining every damn thing he owned and he wasn’t trying to impress the cupcakes so he only wore two different shirts to work. Honestly, Erica would kill him if he tried to impress the cupcakes.

Speaking of her highness, it looked like she decided her yoga pants, slung low on her hips and a sports bra were all good for their little excursion. She’d obviously been down in the basement working out. No wonder she was having 1 am cravings.

“Were you sleeping?” Derek asked as he got to Isaac.

The younger man nodded with a groan. He reached out and helped his brother up before ruffling his hair with a small smile. “Sorry Zac.” Erica was big on the four of them doing things together. Even 12 years later. Derek couldn’t say he minded in the least. Hell, they all did it now and again. Erica was just the biggest instigator.

Together they had pulled each other together. He could still remember a time when they were just broken pieces trying to recover, from Kate, from the abuse at the hand of the one person you should always be able to trust, from the pain and humiliation of a disease you couldn’t control, from the kidnapping and suspected death of someone you thought you should’ve been able to protect.

They were each others strength and support. With reminders that she didn’t succeed, and no one blamed him for her actions. With the love and family he always deserved, and reminders that he was smart, he was worth it. With gentle touches that showed her she was in control now, she could do the things she dreamed of without fear of a fit and that the real monsters of the world were the ones that laughed at other peoples pain and ridiculed them for it. With reminders that he protected her with everything he had, that he loved her more than life itself and never gave up hope they’d find his little sister and bring her home.

It’d taken time, tears, and so much pain but they had won. In the end, they won. Sure, they had bad days. Those days where the memories snuck up on them and the pain got to be too much but on those days, they just call in sick, cuddle in bed, and let the others support them. They fall back into the safety net that will always be there.

“Can I crash with you when we get home?” Isaac managed to mumble out through a yawn big enough to crack his jaw. He was kind of impressed.

Derek wrapped an arm around Isaac’s waist to help keep the half asleep wolf up. He knew working as a nurse in the long term wing of the paediatric ward could be taxing on him. “Of course. You should have come in when you got home.”

“Was gonna.” Isaac leaned into him as the crisp fall air bit into them, helping wake him up a little more. Not that any of the wolves _really_ felt it, even barely dressed as they were. “Went to my room to change. Tripped onto the bed...sorta...ended up passing out there. ‘rica has pictures.”

Derek snorted and shook his head. Right around the time Isaac became a nurse, they learned he could fall asleep anywhere, in any position. They had an album titled ‘ _The Many Sleepscapades of Isaac Hale_ ’. His favorite photograph was of Isaac, face down on the couch like he’d leaned over the arm of it, his head somehow wedged between the cushions with his legs curled back so far, his feet were resting on top of his head fully. He had his arms stretched towards the other end of the couch as though reaching for something. The yoga Erica had forced upon them had _definitely_ been helping.

As they walked, Erica came over to Isaac’s other side, wrapping her arm right under Derek’s, holding Boyd’s hand. It was their standard formation. Who they were closest to, even if they were all close. “He looked adorkable. Then again, he always looks like a fucking cherub-,” she started to grumble, "because you know, 26 years old and you still look too young to drink.”

The rest of them just laughed. It was a common complaint of one Mrs. Erica Boyd-Reyes.

“Don’t worry babe, you don’t look a day over 18,” Boyd crooned, kissing the cheek of his beautiful wife. (While they were married, Erica still went by Reyes most of the time, thus the way her name was hyphenated. It was easier for a lot of reasons. Mostly the whole Boyd thing. Derek understood.)

Before anyone could really add their own two cents in, a pair of glowing red eyes appeared in the darkness. They were in a stretch of land that was technically a park but really it was only used by the pack because it was too ‘overgrown’ for the other kids to play in. There was a hardness to the pinpricks of light, but even more than that, there was a craziness. They knew it wasn’t their alpha, their mother.

Norwich had no way been free of trouble over the years. There had been hostile omegas, both sane and savage, there had been hunters out for blood simply because the Hale’s dared to breathe. This though. This had all four of them frozen in fear. Their alpha was too far away to offer support - or protection - and the nearest pack member was likely deep asleep.

The foreign alpha let out a truly redoubtable growl and started to slowly advance out of the shadows. When Derek got a good look at him, he found himself gripping Isaac tighter. By no means were any of the betas weak. Both Boyd and himself were walls of muscle, while Isaac and Erica were lithe and faster than most could imagine, moving like dancers as they fought.

This alpha though, he looked like he could easily fit in on Monday Night Raw with Ricky Steamboat and the Undertaker. Hell he looked like he could go toe to toe with Andre the Giant after the bite. He was so glad that his father and uncle Sean made each of them learn to fight. The four of them had been trained together and knew how each other fought intimately.

“We’re going to die tonight. I love you all so much,” Isaac whimpered. At least he was a fuckton more awake than he had been a few minutes ago. That would help keep them alive because he refused to let them die.

Reaching up with his free hand, he flicked Isaac’s ear. “Shut up. We are not going down without a fucking fight. I do love you all too though.”

The four of them shifted together, stepping apart to give each other plenty of room. None of them wanted to be tripping over the others. Erica and Boyd gave their ‘I love you’s’ as well before they all tipped their heads back and howled loud and long, the cry of pack in distress. Derek could only pray they would be heard before it was too late.

“Just like we used to train with Sean and dad,” Derek muttered.

He took a deep breath, knowing there was a chance for each of them to die tonight but doubt would only make them too nervous and second guess each move. That really could and would be deadly.

Isaac and Erica slipped around to the outsides of the playing field as Derek and Boyd rushed straight towards the alpha. They kept low, each with their inner shoulders forward. Much more like they were about to tackle someone in football than a life or death situation.

While the alpha was distracted with the direct threat charging towards him, the faster two wolves headed for the alphas unguarded back. With dancer like grace, the golden twins worked together. Isaac went high, his claws ripping down the alpha’s back, leaving his shirt in tatters while Erica went low, raking her claws down one of the alphas calves.

In the front, the crazed alpha wasn’t deterred by the assault to his back. He struck out, managing to throw Boyd to the side, into a tree. His claws raking across his chest in the process. Derek did manage to charge into him, causing the alpha to lose his balance slightly, especially with his weakened calf. He got his claws into his stomach, but before he could do much damage, the alpha had his own claws dug into Derek’s shoulder, hand tightening.

Isaac let out a noise of distress, seeing his brother being hurt. He came around, his claws digging into the alpha’s arm to get him to let go of Derek. As soon as he did, Derek retreated but now the alpha’s attention was on Isaac, who thankfully had his speed to keep himself from being gutted. Instead, he just got claws raked across his face.

Isaac rejoined his sister, communicating with just a gesture of his head. Erica nodded and they moved apart, deciding to rush him from either side while Derek and Boyd recovered. They were fast enough.

Crazed or not, the alpha didn’t seem overly stupid. He turned towards where Erica was rushing in, making the all too common mistake of seeing the female wolf as the weaker target. Get rid of one annoyance, make it easier to get rid of the rest in their distress of losing a pack member.

The truth of the matter was far simpler. Of the four werewolves, Erica was the most ruthless. She was cunning too, using not only her speed but the alpha’s size to her advantage, sliding like she was about to make a home run at the last second, claws coming up and getting the bastard where it would hurt the most, all the way from the front down to the back.

The screams of a man being practically castrated filled the air. The sounds of the male betas whimpering in sympathy filled the air too. Not for the alpha but for the phantom pains shooting through their own groins. It was the perfect distraction though.

Boyd had recovered from being thrown into a tree and while Isaac jumped onto the alpha’s back, digging his claws into his shoulders, he rushed his flank, knocking him off balance.

As much as Derek didn’t want to do it, he knew this would be the only way for them to survive. It was obvious by this point that help wasn’t coming. With a twisting stomach, he ripped his claws through the alpha’s throat, just as the man managed to rip out a good chunk of his side. His dying revenge. Not that it mattered, not really. He would heal. All that mattered was that they were alive and there was this power singing through his blood.

Isaac, Erica, and Boyd wrapped around him. He held them back. It was the only way they ever got through the emotional fallout of things like this. “Are you guys okay?” he managed to get out after a few moments of just soaking their comfort in.

Isaac let out a whimper and shook his head. It didn’t surprise him. He simply held him tighter to his good side. The one that wasn’t making him see spots with the sheer amount of pain.

Erica growled. “I have road rash and ruined my favorite pants,” she muttered darkly. Deflection. Again, not surprising. She hated seeming weak, but in the end she still shook her head too.

Boyd grunted. “Asshole sliced me good. ‘ve already started to heal. Other than that? Not even close.” Thank god for Boyd. A nice, straight answer. “What about you?”

“My side is killing me, I’m now an Alpha and I’m panicking about that, and I want to sleep for the next week,” Derek sighed after a few moments. He knew there was no point in lying to them.

“We need to call mom,” Isaac whispered, resolutely not looking at the dead body next to them. Of them all, Isaac had the hardest time with death. It was part of what made being a nurse so hard for him sometimes but Derek knew he would never give it up because he was a damn good nurse and he loved his job. Especially with his...extra touch. The one that allowed the children to leave this life pain free when he could get to them. 

Digging into his pants, he sighed. “I’ll do it.” He was honestly afraid in that moment. He knew he couldn’t really stay. Not so close to the family. As a new alpha, he could already feel the urge to build a pack under his skin. And yet, without them even properly submitting to him, he could already feel tentative bonds to his 3 best friends.  

Derek found himself standing nearly unnaturally still as he waited for his mother to pick up the phone. He reeked of fear and even he knew it. He just didn’t know what to do. This was insane.

“ _Derek? What’s going on?”_ his mother answered calmly, with a hint of worry in her voice. It was thick with sleep too and he hated that he’d woken her. From the rustling in the background, he could tell both she and his father Adam had gotten out of bed. Guilt churned in his stomach but his siblings touching him helped with that. He wasn’t alone in this, he needed to remember that.

Fuck though, how did he even answer that? His entire life had suddenly changed. He could already tell his senses were stronger but that was literally all he knew. He was never meant to be an alpha. That was on his older brother Tristan or should something happen to him, the more bull headed of the twins - Laura. Never him. He didn’t learn like they had.

Swallowing hard, he shook his head, even though he knew she couldn’t see it. It was more to clear his head he supposed. “Can you just...come here? We’re about halfway between home and The Violet Pig. You might want to bring Peter too,” he muttered. If there was one person who knew how to make a body disappear, Peter was that person. Creepy Uncle award definitely went to him, when he tried.

“ _We’re on our way pup. Stay safe, all of you.”_

There was a gentle command that was purely maternal in her voice and it made him cling all the tighter to his siblings. The people he would die for, as they would die for him.

35 minutes later, Talia, Adam, Peter, and Peter’s wife Kianna were pulling up in his parent’s Volvo. He could see the worry etched on all but Peter’s faces. Because Peter is an asshole. But he’s still family. Sadly.

“Shit. What kind of trouble have you managed to get yourself into now?” Peter grumbled as they got out, shaking his head and tsking at them. He was obviously annoyed about being woken up.

Four growls answered him along with 3 pairs of golden eyes. The new set of red eyes though, that made the new group’s eyes go wide. Peter even managed to work a few imaginative experlatives in there.

“All we wanted were some damn milkshakes and pie! We tried to fucking howl for help but no one came!” Erica growled, absolutely refusing to let go of her husband or her golden twin, both of whom had a hold of Derek. Their hands fell away though, as Derek shifted to instinctively put himself between them and the perceived threat of his uncle with a low growl coming from deep within his chest. He was the only one being openly hostile in their minds after all.

Peter wisely held his hands up in a placating gesture. He wasn’t suicidal and pissing off a new alpha who hadn’t had _any_ time to adjust to the new power they were in possession of was exactly that. He did roll his eyes though because he was still Peter and he was only able to ‘submit’ so much.

Talia sighed, shaking her head. “Please ignore your uncle and tell me what happened sweeties.” The scent of her worry wafted over Derek but under that was the familiar, comforting scent of brownies, orchids, and family. Next to her, his father had the same base scent of family with the addition of cedarwood and vetiver oil, his own worry there too.

Taking a deep breath, he let their scents, combined with the ever present scents of his siblings ground him before he dared speak, lest it be nothing more than a growl. It took him a few moments but he finally shifted back and relaxed back into the touches of his siblings.

“We were going for a family snack over at The Pig when the alpha came out of the shadows. He...wasn’t all there. He attacked us. We all howled together, loud and long as we could but-” Derek sighed and felt his siblings shifting behind him until they were all touching him as much as they could, “We fought as best we could together but he was hell of a lot stronger than us. If not for some quick thinking from Erica, we would’ve all died. I didn’t want to kill him. I was never meant to be an alpha mom…”

His mother sighed softly, walking closer and cupping her son's cheek. Derek happily leaned into the comforting touch, that scent stronger now. He felt like a lost little boy, even at 29. And he knew his mother did the same damn thing to Tristan at 32. “Sometimes La Luna makes things happen because they need to. I think this has been a long time coming. You already have a pack. At least now the four of you have an alpha and can finally spread your wings. As much as I love the four of you, you have been your own pack, simply under my protection, for a long time now

“Can you feel them? The bonds will be extremely weak until they submit to you like they did to me when they were first turned. You have always, and will always, be my children but you haven’t been my betas in years and you never will be again.” She sounded happy about that fact too.  

Derek was struggling with the sudden onslaught of information. He knew the four of them were closer than most of the other betas in his mothers pack and struggled to include others in their activities. Even he and his twin had drifted apart, though he’d simply assumed it’d been because of what happened with Kate. From the tilt of Peter’s head and how wide Kianna’s eyes were though, their pack status wasn’t known outside of his parents.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Isaac’s voice was weak, muffled even farther by the fact that he was burrowed into his shoulder. Erica was buried in the other. He knew without a doubt, Boyd was standing directly behind himself with a hand in the small of each of the others backs. A united front. Yeah, he could see it now because this was completely natural for them. This was a formation they’d fallen into many times before.

Talia shook her head, a sad look on her face. Her husband wrapped a supportive arm around her waist. “I couldn’t. All you knowing would have done was caused discord among the pack. I’m sorry if you’re upset I didn’t tell you but it really was safer this way. For everyone.”

Derek nodded slightly. He knew most packs greatly frowned upon omegas in their territory. Was that what they’d been considered without an alpha? Was a beta pack possible? With their mothers protection, did that make a difference?

“What are we supposed to do now?” He hated how he felt weak in a way in hadn’t in years as he asked but he needed her advice. She was the only one he knew who could help.

“Go home. Call in sick, all of you. Sleep together, and find comfort in each other. Let Peter do what he does best. When you’re ready tomorrow, come over and we’ll talk about it okay?” Talia told them with a smile. "Don't you worry pups, it's going to be alright." 

Derek swallowed around the lump in his throat. That sounded wonderful. Both to him and his wolf. Closing his eyes, he gave his mother a tight hug and nodded, unable to find his voice. He repeated the process with his father.

With that, the pack - _his pack -_ made their way back home. They could deal with the rest tomorrow. For now, he wanted nothing more than to pile into his bed with his brothers and sister.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Non-graphic statutory rape and graphic depictions of violence. Minor original character death.


	4. Who Says You Can't Go Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So baby brother, you get to be the big bad alpha huh? Now that one I never saw coming,” Laura snickered, throwing a pickle at him across the table.
> 
> Derek scowled at her. “27 minutes Laura. Mom couldn’t have even gotten through an episode of The Twilight Zone before I came out,” he growled out at her, throwing the pickle back forcefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright so I just finished typing this up and figured that, rather than sitting on it a few days, I'd go ahead and give it to you lovely angels now.  
> Normally, I'd be at _least_ a chapter ahead in writing. As in, while I'm posting 4, I'm writing 6. But there's a problem. I had a fit earlier and decided I hated chapter 5 and how everyone meets so I decided to re-write it (and thus rewrite 6 too). This means that the next chapter is going to take about a week I'm guessing.  
>  Normally, I wouldn't think it would take that long _but_ I have my grandfathers 91 or 92 birthday tomorrow (I cannot keep track at this point man. I'm 2 weeks shy of 24. That's like, triple my age? More?) and then I have doctor's appointments Monday as well as therapy (go crazy!) so it'll take me a bit to find the time to write.  
>  I am sorry that this is a shorter chapter. And I am not sure if I tagged it or not, I'll look after posting but Stiles is magic in this. Human, but magic. The spark doesn't change him on a molecular level so he's considered human by the supernatural community. Oh and there will also be violence in the future because it is Beacon Hills and things are not sunshine and daisies there lovies.

Walking into his parents home felt strange after the events and revelations of last night. Sleeping surrounded by the most important people in his life (and wasn’t it strange to realize they meant more than even his parents or twin?) had helped him considerably. They still weren’t his betas yet though. None of them really remembered how it worked, it’d been so long.

The house was beautiful, even if it never held that same feeling of home Beacon Hills had. Then again, the house wasn’t filled with memories like that one was. There weren’t gouges in the floor from where Tristan and he had wrestled a little too rough,  both of them wolfing out and clawing into the floor. Their father had made them run laps for 3 hours after that. A lap being nearly 5 miles.

This house didn’t hold his and Laura’s height charts. It’d been like a competition until Derek’d hit his growth spurt. There were a few times where Laura had won too. She was a tall kid.

No, this house was beautiful but it would never be his home. He shook his head and sighed, leading his pack into the dining room. They’d slept well past breakfast and a little late for lunch really but that would _never_ stop Talia Hale from feeding her children.

Lunch was pretty simple fare. Just a spread of things for them to be able to make their own sandwiches, chips, and drinks. Simple but most definitely filling, even for their appetites. (Looking at you Erica.)

Once they were all seated with food, Talia, Adam, and surprisingly (or maybe not so much) Laura joining them as well, they started to talk. There was no point trying to put it off after all.

“So baby brother, you get to be the big bad alpha huh? Now _that_ one I never saw coming,” Laura snickered, throwing a pickle at him across the table.

Derek scowled at her. “27 minutes Laura. Mom couldn’t have even gotten through an episode of The Twilight Zone before I came out,” he growled out at her, throwing the pickle back forcefully. The bitch managed to catch it in her mouth without a challenge of course.

Talia arched a brow. “Skipping commercials, I would’ve actually had time to spare.” She laughed, shaking her head at her twins with a truly fond expression. One that made Derek’s scowl melt away.

“She still can’t play the baby brother bullshit,” he still ended up grumbling. The rest simply looked on with smiles. After all, this was a common Hale family debate. Every pack member knew exactly how many minutes there were because come one holiday or another, it came up eventually. The twins could never let it go.

“I do get to tease you about being an alpha though.” The self satisfied smirk made Derek roll his eyes. It was quintessential Laura and that’s what he loved. She didn’t sugar-coat things, no but she also didn’t focus on the negative bullshit either. She knew exactly how he had become alpha but refused to dwell on it in any way.

“You’re just jealous that you’ll never be one.” He grinned at her with entirely too many teeth.

It felt good to forget about the problems being alpha would bring and just laugh about it. To just be a family (even if he did wonder how they’d gotten everyone out of the house).

“Bitch please. I’ll so have my own pack one day. You do _not_ get to be an alpha unless I end up one too someday. Fate is so not _that_ cruel.”

Everyone around the table snickered at that. Laura had trouble with Derek being too different sometimes. Then again, so did he. It was simply a twin thing. Along with the several actual dialects they spoke, they’d made their own language before they could fully walk.

Unfortunately the jokes and laughter couldn’t last forever.  Especially not with Laura having her own twins to get home to. As much as Sofia and Maisie loved their father, the girls were simply more dependent on their mother. Derek was their favorite uncle too (thank fuck).

“So, the first thing we need to discuss is your betas Derek,” Talia started while Laura chortled “minions” under her breath. “Did you have them submit yet?” Ah his mother, perfectly flawless at ignoring all of her childrens little comments.

A small dusting of red colored the tips of Derek’s ears and the base of his neck. “N-No. I know how to submit. Every wolf does but...I submitted as your beta when I was a toddler and it’s been over a decade for them. I feel like this should be instinctual but,” he sighed heavily. He felt like he was already a failure as an alpha.

Talia nodded simply. “I understand pup. It’s not instinctual. Not right away. It will be eventually though. It’s simply an extension of natural submission. They will bare their throats to you and you will bite their throats, with human teeth, and with the intent to make them your betas.”

Derek nodded back with a small smile. It made a lot of sense and he could remember his mother doing that to his siblings, before Isaac even took the bite in fact. After all, even the humans in the pack submitted to the alpha. He’d remembered asking his mother if she could feel her human betas as she could her wolves. She told him the connection would always be fainter but yes, it was there.

“Perhaps you would like to do that before we move the conversation on to the next topic. Feel free to use the study for privacy. You’ll feel better after,” his mother suggested with one of her loving, maternal smiles. Throughout his 29 years of life, they’d always made him feel calmer.

A smile of his own came to Derek’s lips. The study was sound proofed so her offering that was her offering true privacy to his pack for something so greatly personal. It made him feel good.

“Thank you mom.”

They went into the study, locking the door out of habit. (Laura enjoyed making his life hell far too much after all.)

It felt strange, standing there facing the most important people in his life, his siblings, his pack. For all the time they’d known each other, they’d been equals. He was honestly afraid this was going to change that, causing his heart rate to kick up.

Erica tilted her head, long hair cascading over her shoulder as she stood between Isaac and Boyd. She seemed to be doing that thing where she picked one of them apart without saying a word, which he was so convinced Boyd had taught her through osmosis. It could be quite scary when she did it.

“You do realize this isn’t going to change anything right? I will submit to you as my alpha but that’s it. You are still my brother and I am going to bully and blackmail you into shit. I’m still going to drag your ass out of the house at 1 am because I want fucking milkshakes and pie. We’re still going to be the Brat Pack,” Erica told him, reaching out and flicking his ear. Fuck he hated his mother for teaching his sisters that move. They all did it. All 4 of them. Bloody menaces. “We’ve been terrorizing our mother for 12 years. I mean, we’re not called the Brat Pack for nothing. And never has she used her alpha ability. She has always been our family’s mother first and alpha second. You will always be our brother first and alpha second. Got it?”

That weight that had been making it hard to breath without him ever even realizing it felt like it’d been lifted. “And this is why you’re my favorite sister. Thank you. I don’t want to be anything other than your brother unless I really have to.”

“Awesome, don’t let your, you know, twin hear that though. Can we do the whole pack thing now though? Because I have to say, being our own little family sounds fucking awesome!”

Derek snorted and shook his head but still gestured for her to come closer. He was actually a little surprised when she did it without any sort of sass or off the cuff comment.

In that second, he thought back to the person Erica had been for about a year after the Bite. Isaac too. They’d both over compensated when the shackles (both real and imagined) had all but fallen away. For Erica, she no longer had the fears or constraints that her epilepsy brought upon her. It’d helped that she could no longer have acne and Laura had taught her all that her biological mother never took the time too.

And while Erica never became a...slut…, Derek couldn’t help but think of someone like Rizzo or maybe Regina was a better comparison when he reflected back upon that time. At least 80% of that was because of Laura alone. (The fact that he could make those comparisons was a testament to the fact that Isaac got to pick the movies far too often.) She’d mellowed a lot with age and marriage though.

With Isaac, it’d been a different kind of shackle. He finally had the power to fight back. No one could ever hurt him again, not physically, not like his father had. With the new power, he became cocky on the surface. The other three, especially Derek, could see how he was still scared under it all though. That was what he used to bring him back from the self destructing edge he was headed for.

Boyd...well Boyd didn’t really change at all. His hang ups had nothing to do with fear or power like that. The Bite was simply because of his desire to be able to keep up with his best friends and soon to be siblings. To be able to protect those he cared for.

As Erica bore her throat to him, he laid a gentle hand on her shoulder to steady himself before running his nose along the side column of her neck. While very intimate, there was nothing sexual about the move. It simply allowed him to breathe in her scent while leaving his own behind. Marking her as pack. Something he’d done time and again with all of his family.

Opening his mouth, he let his very blunt, human teeth press down onto the juncture of her neck and shoulder. He thought of nothing but his desire to protect his sister, to have her close always, and how much easier much easier it would be if she was his beta. He bit until he nearly broke skin, until that tentative bond flared to life and his eyes flew open, crimson red.

“Holy shit!” Derek exclaimed as he pulled back, eyes still bright red. This connection was heady, a rush he never expected. One he liked though. He could feel Erica. Feel how she was doing, her emotions, and where she was in a general sense. “This is intense but...I like it. I feel like I’ll be able to protect my little sister better now.”

Erica grinned at him, flicking him on the nose for the little sister comment, before stepping back and letting Derek repeat the process with her brothers. Each time felt a little stronger, made him feel like his wolf could do more. He as a person though? Refused to let it change him. As a person, the only thing that changed was how he could feel his siblings.

“We’re still the Brat Pack, right?”

“Hell yes!”

“Are you kidding? We are literally the Brat _Pack_ now.”

“You know it bitches.”

With one last round of hugs and scenting, the headed back out for dessert and what would surely be a rougher conversation. At least this one would be taking place in the very comfortable living room where they could stretch out and relax.

Derek collapsed into one of the loveseats with Isaac by his side. He could already tell that Isaac would be his Second. Isaac was someone he trusted implicitly. He was the first person Derek went to on his bad days, as Derek was the first for Isaac. They each had one of Laura’s Rustic Plum Tart’s. They were heaven and he hated her just a little bit for it but his Bourbon Chicken killed it in the end. (Plus Boyd blew Laura out of the water in the art of pastries.)

Speaking of Boyd, he and Erica sat across from them on the other loveseat, with Erica curled into her husband’s side as they enjoyed their own tarts. Laura was lounged across an armchair, looking much younger than a mother of twin six year olds while their parents cuddled on the couch. It was nice. It brought him a warm feeling of family.

“Derek, pup…” Talia started after swallowing down a large bite of tart, tongue having to chase after some errant crumbs. She tended to love anything her children cooked - as long as they weren’t on the Kitchen Ban list - and the tarts were no exception. “Your father and I did some talking. You and your pack needs its own territory. In no way are we kicking you out. We just think it’ll give you a chance to flourish. We think it’s time you went home pup, back to Beacon Hills. Rather than just living there, you can put down roots.”

Derek’s eyes went wide. The chance to go back home? It nearly shattered him the last time he’d been there. He’d also only been 15 and oh so naive. And to be able to show the place he’d only been able to describe to his siblings? It was hardly a struggle to make his choice.

“Is the house still in relatively good shape? We have plenty of money of course….but only if this is okay with _everyone_.” Derek would not forcibly uproot them from their lives, they deserved the chance to put their two cents in. This was their future too. His mother did paint a beautiful picture though…

Adam hummed a little, nodding his head slightly. “From the last reports? The house is in fairly good shape. Someone goes out to take care of things there every 3 months. They just did their last 3 month sweep a few weeks ago. I’m sure that the place could use some general maintenance though. It would be move in ready if that’s what you’re asking.”

Derek turned slightly, looking to each member of his pack. They each gave their okay for the move. Yeah, it would be the first time any of the three of them had lived out of the state but you could already sense a certain amount of excitement. Hell, he could even see some ideas churning in that devious mind of his sisters.

In less than a month, the town founded by a Hale alpha and his mate would have one holding the territory again. Nothing could possibly go wrong...right?

  


 


	5. The Years, They Took Their Toll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If Eyebrows was a Hale, he looked around the age to be either Derek or Tristan. It’d been so long though. So long since he’d watched Auntie Talia having tea with his mom while he and Cora sat in the living room, working on homework. He still had pictures packed away of Talia and Claudia, looking like they’d swallowed a planet each, stomachs touching as though to let the yet unborn Stiles and Cora high-five.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter 5 babies! Something to remember with this chapter. Derek never lost his family to end up the jaded manpain filled asshole we all know and love. Stiles didn't do a 180 in this chapter from the beginning either. Think friend vs stranger. Good day vs bad. Happy vs pissed off. ; ) 
> 
> There is a lot of cussing. The word fuck comes up a lot. Fuck is my favorite word as well as Stiles and Derek's both I think. I really do. It's such a versatile word. 
> 
> (All the chapter titles, sans the first, come from songs but this one actually comes from a favorite of mine called Are You With Me Now by Sixx Am. It just kinda fits Stiles and Derek in general. Not sure this story or not but just...meh.)

Stiles sometimes wondered if the supernatural community wasn’t willfully ignorant. Or maybe they were more self-isolated than willfully ignorant? There had to be a reason for the constant shock that occurred when they learned of the existence of something other than their own asses that tend to go bump in the night.

Of course, the Stilinski pack had quite the reputation. They were the strangest pack west of the Mississippi. (Though he liked to think at least all of the U.S.) Maybe that was why nothing really surprised them. They’d already seen too much to find surprise anymore. Though their town also tended to come with far too much supernatural attention. But hey, having a human (because dude, wielding magic did _not_ change that) alpha, a banshee, an Argent, and a kitsune (when she wasn’t studying in Japan) made it hard not to draw in the vultures.

And that wasn’t even mentioning the nightmare that was junior year, that ended up sending out ripples throughout the telluric currents, that used the damn nemeton as a beacon to tell all that’s both good, bad, and neutral in the supernatural world that Beacon Hills held great fucking power. Granted there always seemed to be more of the bad (or really freaking annoying) than good or even neutral.

All these years later and they were still fighting off all that came at them. That was why he was out here in the damn preserve in the middle of the day rather than at home, wearing his favorite Batman pajamas and watching reruns of Buffy to enjoy his day off like a normal fucking person. Then again, normal is a relative. What is normal for a werewolf isn’t normal for a brownie.

Ah the brownies. Adorable little things that loved running around the Beacon Hills forest. Perfectly harmless of course. Unless they wanted to give Stiles a headache. They were drawn to magic and love it when he got a new tattoo. (So much magic expelled at once.) Little shits.

Today though? Today he was running alone around the the preserve trying to find what was leaving bodies drained dry around the woods and even one in town. Normally someone would be with him but the amount of bodies was too high and the number of available pack too low. Allison was patrolling the town under the guise of her job as Deputy, Danny was using his illegal hacking skills to track the movements of the victims to see if he could find a pattern, and the rest were searching the woods in a grid pattern, with Stiles taking the area nearest the old Hale place since he was most familiar with the area.

Stiles himself was armed with his favorite Sig-Sauer P229 as well as several knives made of different materials (because everything has a fucking weakness goddamnit!), plus you know, the whole magic thing. And that shit could kick ass. Sometimes.

He sighed, running his fingers through his messy hair as he trekked through the woods he knew like the back of his hand. He was so sick of only being out here to chase big bads though. He missed just walking through the woods for fun.

To pass the time, he found himself singing softly under his breath.  He was the ‘bait’ type “hunter” after all. Being quiet didn’t matter. _“My lover’s got humor, she’s the giggle at a funeral. Knows everybody’s disapproval. I should’ve worshipped her sooner… If the heavens ever did speak, she’s the last true mouthpiece. Every Sunday’s getting more bleak, a fresh poison ea_ \--” His words cut off as someone seemed to melt out from between the trees. While his fingers twitched and he had a strong itch to go straight for his gun, he didn’t. There weren’t enough data points yet. He may be just another human hiker after all.

The man was certainly something to look at. Even from this far away, he looked like he could’ve walked straight out of the pages of one of Lydia’s fashion magazines that she was so fond of with his skin tight heather grey henley that clung to his muscles and his painted on black jeans. That wasn’t even talking about what was under the clothes. And those _eyebrows_ ! His eyebrows were so impressive. They were bushy caterpillars just waiting to crawl off his face. He kind of wanted to see if they were as soft as they looked. As soft as his inky black hair looked. Stiles had no desire to fuck him (Demisexual for the win!) but damn that didn’t mean he didn’t have fucking _eyes_.

“This is private property,” Eyebrows bit out with a glare that he probably thought would scare or intimidate Stiles somehow. Shame how that never actually happened. (Well, shame for everyone else anyway.)

Stiles smirked and rose a sassy brow. Sure, he had a big bad to hunt down but this could be entertaining and you know what? He deserved a fucking break from the last three hours of searching. His feet hurt dammit.

“Congratulations, you are in fact standing on private property. Private property whose line doesn’t start for about, oh, another 20 feet for me. If you really wish for me to to trespass though, I can. It’s not like I don’t all the time. To be fair though, it’s been about twelve years or so now since there’s been someone to catch me.” His eyes sparkled with delight and there was a bit of laughter bubbling up inside him that he had to work hard to keep down.

He couldn’t help but wonder if the man before him was one of the Hale’s or maybe someone else, a family friend perhaps. He knew they didn’t sell the house at least. The pack kept a careful eye on that and vet any potential new citizens. Discretely, of course. Having allies outside the pack does wonders.

If Eyebrows was a Hale, he looked around the age to be either Derek or Tristan. It’d been so long though. So long since he’d watched Auntie Talia having tea with his mom while he and Cora sat in the living room, working on homework. He still had pictures packed away of Talia and Claudia, looking like they’d swallowed a planet each, stomachs touching as though to let the yet unborn Stiles and Cora high-five.

He and Cora were never as close as he and Scott, only ever seeing each other when she and her mother came over for a visit outside school. After his mother’s death, it became strictly a distant at school friendship, and in all his life, he’d only ever been to the Hale house once. And that day was only because he’d happened to be riding along with his dad when he got the call.

Shuddering out of his memories of the past, he focused on Eyebrows, on the tick in his jaw, and decided fuck it, since he wasn’t answering. He took slow, measured steps towards the man, knowing exactly where the boundary line was and where he would be when he crossed it.

“So Eyebrows, be ye a Hale or be ye a friend of the family? I gotta say, no matter who you are, it’s impressive you got anywhere _near_ close to knowing where the boundary lines are,” Stiles told him with a little bit of a laugh, sticking his hands into his favorite red hoodie. (Yes, he did get the irony, and yes, that was exactly why he wore it. He had a red leather hoodie too, for winter months.) Hell the only reason he knew was because of the simple fact that he’d been walking that very same boundary line on a near daily basis since he was twelve and the Hale family had left. It used to be soothing when he had nightmares and couldn’t sleep, and his dad was working the night shift or gods forbid a double. Granted, he wouldn’t leave the house without being armed to the hilt after the rogue alpha attack, but it still helped. Even as recent as last month.

Finally Eyebrows pulled his head out of his ass with a subvocal growl a few steps after Stiles finally crossed over the boundary line of the property.

Oh. Well then.

Someone’s not as human as he seems, is he now? The sad thing is, eight years of conditioning and being an alpha made the noise kind of funny instead of remotely scary at this point.

Rolling his eyes, Stiles muttered, “Who's afraid of the big bad wolf? Not I. Not I.”

That made Eyebrows stop growling but neither the growling nor his reply had stopped Stiles approach now that he was truly curious about Eyebrows and this whole situation. He had trouble letting puzzles go and just walking away. Plus, yeah he was so not leaving a strange wolf along in his territory.

That fact alone, that there was one, had his instincts kicking in. With a flare from his spark, he could feel the bond, feel each and every pack member and know they were okay. The wonderful thing about the way their bond had been forged, meant he knew even Kira was okay, an ocean away. Who needed a cell phone when you can get on that level of stalker creepy? As soon as he knew everyone was well and truly okay, he let his spark go. The bond was still there, still a low level hum, just not anywhere near as intense as when he called his spark to breathe more life into it.

“So have you decided that you prefer being a cro-magnon wolf? I mean I _know_ you can speak. Already proved that one Eyebrows. Don’t go all non-verbal on me now. That’s no way to build a rapport! I mean, I can totally talk enough for the both of us and I’m going to keep calling you Eyebrows because holy fuck those things are just waiting to crawl off your face first chance they get but I generally like to know who I’m talking to. I’ll even tell you my name! Well not my real name because that shit is tantamount to child abuse but the name that I gave myself when I couldn’t even pronou--”

“Derek. And yes, I’m a Hale,” Eyebrows finally cut in with his answer, cutting his ramble off just when it was building serious steam. Ahh well, tis for the best, to be sure. He was still glaring darkly sadly but really, Stiles was expecting no less at this point.

“Fuck,” came out unbidden from his mouth before he could stop it. Sure, his brain to mouth filter is astronomically better now, but he still suffered from ADHD. A mental disorder doesn’t just disappear sadly. “Sorry, just--” he sighed, scrubbing a hand roughly over his face in frustration. How does one explain that they wanted you to be _any_ one other than yourself...or Cora. “Are...uh...shit...is everyone back? I don’t...I...Is Auntie Talia here?” The term of endearment was past his lips faster than he realized just how strange it might seem to say, after all these years. Because his mom had been dead for fourteen years, and really, she stopped being Auntie Talia right around then.

It made him stop walking at least, with a good ten feet between himself, and someone he'd seen on their worst day. Now that he knew about the whole werewolf thing though? It being Kate Argent that day, yeah that made a whole lot more sense and made bile rise in his throat that he fought hard to keep down. Jesus fuck. It took everything he had no to just turn and throw up then and there. That bitch...was as bat shit as her geriatric psycho of a father (and yeah, Stiles might have some anger issues when it came to that man still, what of it?!).

Derek’s face changed to one of pure confusion, the caterpillars crawling up and threatening to merge with his hairline, to hide there forever. It was kind of adorable. Stiles felt the strange urge to coo at a grown man that he wasn’t somehow related to. “Auntie Talia? You know my mother? Who _are_ you?” His voice held a quiet vehemence.

Stiles could feel his aching heart racing in his chest and decided he couldn’t support his own weight for this conversation. There was a nice, sturdy looking tree a few steps away that looked like a kindly dear who would be willing to support him while he sat on the forest floor. He walked over and slid down, careful not to let his hoodie ride up. He didn’t want bark burn. Again. He needed to calm the fuck down though. Seriously. He was the Stilinski Pack alpha! He couldn’t have a fucking panic attack!

“I-I don’t know if you remember Claudia Stilinski?” His question was soft, but his voice didn’t waiver, even if he felt like it should be with as shaky as he felt. At the little jerk that could barely be called a nod, he continued, “She was my mom. I’m-I’m Stiles. And my dad, he’s umm..he was Deputy John Stilinski? If you remember him?”

“Was?”

The way Derek’s voice cracked made Stiles realize what his words sounded like. “Shit, no! He’s alive! Just, Sheriff Stilinski now! He got a promotion. I’m sorry Eyebrows, very much alive. I...I couldn’t handle losing him,” he admitted softly after his ardent apology. He hated that he made Derek think that his dad was dead. He just didn’t know if it’d clicked right away that his mom and dad were, well, his mom and dad.

Derek nodded jerkily again. “That’s good. Real good. Your dad’s a great man. My mom didn’t come with us though, no. It’s um...complicated.”

Stiles bit his lip, as he nodded too. He had to wonder what made Derek come back here. First though, there were a lot of questions that needed answered. Sadly, they weren’t the kind of questions that could wait now that he knew Derek wasn’t exactly human. He cleared his throat, even if it did nothing for his mind. Then again, it was always a mess up there.

“So, I have to ask you some important questions that tend to border on invasion of privacy. First! Where on the supernatural spectrum do you fall? I’m guessing werewolf but hey, maybe a werecoyote could get its growl to be that deeply subvocal,” Stiles theorized, refusing to get up from where he was sitting on the forest floor for his interrogation, choosing to simply tilt his head to look at Derek. Oh please let the man be a werecoyote. Then he could just dump him into the Tate family’s lap and boom, no longer a problem for Stiles. Sadly, that never happened. Ever. Not even _once_.

Oh yeah, he was so earning the Eyebrows nickname with the way that that bushy bitch was abandoning his brother behind. “Werecoyote? Seriously?” Disbelief colored Derek’s voice, like he thought Stiles was stupid, or joking.

Stiles laughed a little (just a little, really, no joke) bitterly at this point (and it wasn’t even Derek’s fault he was bitter about this shit) and shook his head, “Seriously! Willfully ignorant or just self-isolating man? Like _really_. Yes, werecoyote! As in the Tate family but I would avoid them, there a little touchy. There are many types of were’ okay, so you are definitely of the wolf variety because only those that fall under the canis genus can really growl like that. Next up, bitten or born?”

“Why does any of this fucking matter?” Derek growled at him, not bothering with any of the rest of Stiles statement, which wow, rude! He was so going to call up Malia and have her and her brothers come show Derek just how annoying the fucking werecoyotes could be.

The tone of voice was pissing him off more than he could explain honestly. Fucking _werewolves_. He could feel his spark rushing through him, a bit of heat in his palms before he squashed it, not letting it manifest into anything. He had fucking near perfect control, this asshole wasn’t taking it away. “Answer the fucking question before I decide to find a fun way to make you! This shit is important for a reason. It calls to two things, but only one actually matters and that’s your inherent control. So I ask again Eyebrows, are you born or were you bitten?” he hissed out, eyes narrowing though he still didn’t bother standing. Didn’t have to stand to be dangerous. Ask his girls.

“Born,” Derek bit out, a tick in his jaw.

Stiles nodded a bit. This was good. And bad. Jesus fuck, like the pack doesn’t deal with enough shit on a regular basis. And things had _finally_ been settling down too. These deaths had been the first attacks in what? Nearly ten months? Ever since the Likhoradka’s attack near the start of the year. That one was easy though. For once, the ‘kill it with fire!’ approach actually worked quite well. Nothing in the world sanitizes as good as fire and she was the Black Death in a white dress. Thank fuck for modern medicine saving the lives of those she’d infected after they’d realized what she was.

Now though? They had an unknown big bad and a fucking family of werewolves possibly trying to move back and take over the territory again (which was not going to happen). Dear Gods and Goddesses, was this punishment for becoming too fucking complacent? It was, wasn’t it?

“Are all the Hale’s werewolves?” Okay so this was more a curiosity thing, so sue him.

“Of course not. Even with two wolf parents, I think it’s something like 10% odds of having a human child? My brother Isaac or maybe Uncle Sean would know better. Most of us are werewolves though,” Derek explained to him. He finally decided to join Stiles in sitting on the forest floor, picking his own tree about 10 feet away but still easily visible to each other. How the hell did he sit down and not split a seam in those pants though? They had to be magic. There was sorcery behind them jeans.

Weaving a blade of grass between his fingers to keep focused on the conversation and what he really did need to ask instead of what he was curious about, he sighed out, “How many of you are here right now?”

Derek sighed deeply himself. Stiles could tell he was getting annoyed. Well suck it up Eyebrows, or you’ll be sitting in a ring of ash until we get through this tedious as fuck part of the conversation. And maybe even longer if Stiles was really pissed off. He could be a vindictive little shit like that. One only needed to ask Scott to know. He’d been put into wolfy time out more than once.

“Four of us. Me, and three of my siblings but you...you don’t know them Stiles. Mom and dad adopted them after we moved.” Stiles could see how much he hated that it was Stiles sitting here and he couldn’t blame Derek at all. To be having this conversation with someone who’d seen you on what he kind of hoped was the worst day of his youth. (Someone deserves a good one and if that was the worst, then he had a pretty damn good one.) In a way, he wished he could have sent Lydia or Danny here to do this. At the same time though, this was better. Stiles did these interviews better than anyone else in the pack. (Mostly because he’d designed the interview.)

Nodding at Derek, he found himself running his fingers through his severely disheveled nest of hair again. Gods he could feel a headache coming on. He had to close his eyes against the light in the hopes of warding it off. “Human, bitten, or born?”

“All three were bitten.”

“Do all of you have solid anchors and good control?”

“Of course we do!”

“Keep the indignation out of your voice jackass. It’s a completely fucking fair question around here. I think my scars prove that. Now this one…” Stiles sounded wary as he asked. He was afraid of the answer if he was honest with himself, which hey, he was. “What exactly are you doing here?”

Stiles forced himself to open his eyes. He needed to see Derek answer. “Due to some complications, I became an alpha so mom thought Erica, Boyd, Isaac, and I would be happier here. In the town my family founded and the territory I grew up in.”

Fuck.

Yeah.

No.

Nyet.

Shit.

Damn.

That was exactly what he was afraid of. Though Derek being the alpha? Kind of not what he was expecting but still, glad of it because at least there was a history there. The other three were complete unknowns. He didn’t like complete unknowns.

“And none of you thought to, oh, I don’t know, make sure the territory wasn’t already claimed?” he growled, rolling his eyes. Ah how wolf like the humans of the pack could sound. Especially the alpha. He was quite proud of himself.

Eyebrows eyebrows shot up. “Claimed?! What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Gosh golly gee wiz Derek, do you think I pulled these questions out of my _ass_ ? No, I have these questions because I’ve asked them before. Because I’m kind of picky about who gets to spend time in _my_ territory.” A flash of anger pushed through him, bringing his spark with it again. He had to take a deep, centering breath before he ended up hurting something. Like the poor forest floor.

Gods how Stiles itched to pull out his gun and shoot the asshole, just to shut that snarl up. Bastard had no right to be angry. Hell, he’d even put the iron clip in so it would just hurt like a bitch. No poisonings here. Not yet.

“I need to talk to your alpha,” Derek bit out, anger in his now crimson eyes. _Asshole._

“Did you miss the last half hour? Did I hallucinate our conversation? Sure didn’t seem like I did but _hey_ what do I know right?” Stiles responded peevishly, sarcasm dripping off his every word like poison. What part of _my_ did the asshole miss.

Derek was officially downgraded from Eyebrows to Asshole.

“B-But you’re-you’re _human_!” Derek sputtered disbelievingly.

He was going to shoot something.

Possibly Derek.

Probably Derek.

Preferably Derek.

Rolling his eyes, Stiles stretched his legs out and crossed his ankles and arms. He was settling in for one of his favorite rants. “I’m a lot of things. Do you want a list? I’m a human alpha spark, home and shop owner who is also pack dad, with a genius level IQ, and graduated summa fucking cum laude. I’m also someone with a short attention span, a lot of compassion for those who deserve it, but also serious anger issues, and can be a vindictive bitch. I am a lot of things. Human being the _smallest_ facet of that. Either respect that, or I will happily show you just how strong an alpha I can be because I’m really not in the mood. Capisce Eyebrows?” Okay so he’s not that much of an asshole to call the asshole asshole to his asshole face.

“Would you stop calling me that?” Derek snapped at him. Stiles rolled his eyes again but decided that the nickname was officially going to be around to stay, just because of the annoyance it caused the other man. “You aren’t a werewolf. You  _can’t_ be an alpha!”

“Pretty sure I’ve been one for oh...eight years now. I’ve been an alpha since I was sixteen _Eyebrows_ and you can keep trying to say I’m not but it won’t change anything. And because I’ve heard this shit so much, let me answer the next one. Yes, we do actually have a fully functioning pack bond that far surpasses anything you have.”

“Excuse you?”

Stiles shook his head as he stood. “Nope. I’ve spent enough time with you. There’s something out there leaving emaciated corpses around my territory and my entire pack is out looking for it. I have to go check on them and see what they’ve found. So, here’s what’s going to happen, and you aren’t going to say no because _you_ are trespassing. You are going to give me your number, I’m going to text you my address, you and your pack will show up for dinner tonight at...seven. Bring enough dessert for twelve people with werewolf size appetites with no allergies to worry about. And please tell your pack that I’d appreciate not having to try and get blood out of my carpets so if they could behave, that’d be great. We’ll try and figure out where to go from here then.”

Derek sighed in the most defeated manner when Stiles held out an expectant hand, with a face that brokered no arguments. To be fair, he’d had a lot of practice with his pack. Trying to get Lydia Martin to do something she didn’t want to do too a lot of effort.

He had no idea what Derek’s pack was like, but he knew what his was like. This was going to be such a bloody mess in the most literal sense. And Stiles had this nagging feeling he was forgetting something important.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah yes, they did have to meet like that. I couldn't resist the "This is private property" thing man. I'm so not even sorry. Nope. 
> 
> Next chapter, we will be seeing things from Derek's eyes. From going back to the house to talk to his siblings, to the awkward dinner, to finding out just what it is that Stiles is forgetting. 
> 
> It's a pretty big thing too. Mhmm. Shame on you Stiles. For someone so smart, you can be so forgetful. 
> 
> Also guys, holy SHIT. Thank you ALL for all the love and support. The kudos, the comments. All of it. It makes writing this so much easier. My own little cheering section!


	6. Seems I’ve crossed the line again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Their alpha is a psychotic asshole of a human. Well...maybe not psychotic, I just hate him. A lot,” he told them. Actually for all Derek knew, Stiles was psychotic. The asshole part though? He knew that part was a fact. There was no doubt in that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so _so_ fucking sorry about how long this took. I had a pretty shitty week. I turned 24 on the 5th of March. I would list everything here but it's too much. [ There's a like if you'd like to know more. Both the good and the bad. Though trust me, the bad outweighs the good.](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1MUEqGXfBB2g3Of6e4YDH7jxXuXbXzRpDO3IB1GXV-0M/edit?usp=sharing)  
>  This chapter was quite hard to write. Mostly because of the fact that my week has been horrid. It just...gah. Oh and the math/science in this is so not sound, I'm sure but like, yeah. I tried?

Stiles _fucking_ Stilinski.

Moving back to Beacon Hills wasn’t going to be painless by any means. He knew it. But fuck, they hadn’t even been back a full day yet. They got back late enough that they’d only had time to crash in the master bedroom (because it had a bed big enough for all of them) and get some much needed sleep after the 4 day trip to get them there.

When he’d gotten up, he’d sent Boyd and Isaac to fill up the cupboards while Erica decided she’d air the house out and wash all the bedding that had been left behind and febreeze the shit out of the furniture so it wouldn’t smell like they were living in a crypt. He had wanted to run the property line. Just to make sure everything was in order. It was a natural instinct.

It’d all been going fine until _Stiles_ . (Gods even his name sounded like a curse inside his head at this point.) Stiles who decided to ask him twenty fucking questions and then oh so _kindly_ informed him that the whole reason he’d moved home may very well be a moot point. Because _Stiles_ is the _human_ alpha of the local werewolf pack.

Fuck. Derek needed a stiff drink, and a phone call to his mother. (The kind of shit Peter drank with aconite in it, so he could actually feel it.) She’d have answers. Surely a human couldn’t hold the territory. Or maybe the fact that his family founded the territory would give him the right to it?

And now this strange smelling (he should really look into that) fucker is forcing them to dinner on top of it all. A dinner that would be 110% hell. He wasn’t a fan of new people, Erica was a bitch if she didn’t like you, Isaac would either be a douche or be withdrawn, and Boyd would silently judge. There were so many ways this could go wrong.

Fuck. Life.

He growled as he made his way home. What was he even supposed to say to his siblings? He really didn’t want their pity or shit because it was Deputy-Sheriff Stilinski’s kid. So what if they’d only been back a day and he’d already had to face his past?

Derek wished he knew what happened to Kate. He was honestly afraid she would find out he was back and try to finish what she started or seek revenge. Maybe he could ask the Sheriff if he knew anything about where she might be. Though the thought of doing that, made his stomach roll. It made him fear.

All those thoughts left his mind as he got close to the house. All the windows were open and someone’s iPod was hooked up to the dock, sounds floating through the clearing. It was quite wonderful. It made him feel warm inside.

Boyd’s shiny blue Ford F-150 pickup was parked next to his sleek black Camero and Isaac’s steel grey Toyota 4Runner, telling him his brothers were home. He silently bound up the porch steps and through the open door, smiling at what he saw. Something he had always loved to see.

Boyd was holding Erica’s hands, dancing around the hall with her, singing along with [the song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UttOVBD-Rvw), eyes only for his beautiful wife. “ _We’ve got a story and I’m about to change the ending. You’re perfect for me and more than just a friend, so we can just stop pretending now. Gotta let you know somehow.”_

Leaning against the door jam, Derek smiled softly, letting what happened in the forest leave his mind for a while, and just focused on his brother and sister. He loved watching them like this. Boyd pulled Erica close, a hand going to her hip as the other grasped hers tight, waltzing around the room. “ _I’ll be your shelter, I’ll be your storm. I’ll make you shiver, I’ll keep you warm. Whatever weather, baby I’m yours. Be your forever, be your fling. Baby I will be your everything._ ”

Derek wasn’t surprised when he felt a head of curls come to rest on his shoulder, the warmth and press of a familiar body next to him. He uncrossed his arms to wrap one around the others waist, kissing the nest of curls on his shoulder softly as they watched the couple who had eyes only for each other. The way they moved together was breathtaking. Two bodies moving as one. They knew each other so well that they didn’t even have to think. They just knew what the other was going to do.

“Do you think we’ll ever find something like that?” Isaac asked weakly. Derek found himself squeezing his brother close. Isaac had dated a lot of people, especially in college but none of them lasted long enough to actually get a label. Four dates were the most anyone had ever gotten out of him and that went to Carver Forma, who was a great guy but, well, it wasn’t his fault.

Derek himself hadn’t really dated either. He’d had a boyfriend for a while in college but in the end, he just _knew_ he would never be able to tell the truth about who he was so he ended it before it got too far. He never really regretted it either. Simon was a great guy but...he wasn’t _the_ guy.  

In the end, he just sighed and shrugged a little. “...if there ever comes a day where we can let go of our issues, then yeah maybe.” Isaac sighed too, in agreement.

As the final notes of the song echoed through the house, Derek and Isaac clapped for their siblings dancing. Another familiar song started to play but sadly they couldn’t just go back to dancing and having fun. No matter how bad he ached to forget about Stiles and that shit, he had to talk to his siblings about it.

“Thank you,” Erica laughed, grinning over at them. Her grin melted off pretty fast. “Der? What’s wrong?”

He could see her concern start to manifest on Boyd and Isaac as well. He knew it was pointless to deny anything. Especially from his pack, from his siblings. They would see and feel and hear and sense the lie. They knew him far too well.

“We need to talk about my frankly horrible walk in the woods. Sadly, we don’t have all day to do it either. We have to be at dinner at seven with a shit ton of dessert. It’s what? Four right now? We should have enough time for all this,” Derek told them as he headed into the kitchen. If he was going to do this, he was going to be enjoying a cup of hot ginger tea during this dammit!

Pulling out the kettle from one of the many, many boxes they had yet to unpack, he filled it with water before setting it on the stove and flipping it on, setting the flame to high. He already knew there was ginger tea somewhere because it was on the list, it was always on the list, but fuck if he knew where.

The other three followed him into the kitchen, with Erica hopping up to sit upon the counter, on leg tucked up against her thigh as Boyd wrapped an arm around her waist and leaned into the island counter she sat on. Isaac, knowing Derek as well as he did, started digging through the cupboards, searching for teas.

Erica waited until Derek turned back around and then she demanded, “Start talking, where the _fuck_ are we having dinner?!” She sounded more than a little annoyed to be honest.

He glanced around at each of them before deciding fuck it. It’s far easier to just rip the bandaid off and deal with the fallout, whatever it may be. “We were ‘invited’ to have dinner by the alpha of the local pack. He made it clear that there would be _no_ refusing.”

Derek’s words made the rest of the room stop moving. “There’s another pack here already?” Isaac managed to ask though, a little worry and fear in his words. They all knew just how fucked up a situation it was. Or they thought they knew. They only knew how fucked up it was on the surface. It ran so much deeper than that though. So much deeper, on such a personal level but even he didn't realize how deep. 

“I guess? I need to ask mom if this pack can actually technically fucking hold claim to _any_ territory, let alone one that’s been historically held by one pack since it was founded,” he growled out around his fangs, claws sharpening. Now that he didn’t have to worry about his control, he could really _feel_ his anger. Gods he wanted nothing more than to rip that asshole to tiny pieces.

Isaac made an ‘explain’ gesture.

“Their alpha is a psychotic asshole of a human. Well...maybe not psychotic, I just hate him. A lot,” he told them. Actually for all Derek knew, Stiles _was_ psychotic. The asshole part though? He _knew_ that part was a fact. There was no doubt in that.

The tea kettle sputtered behind him to let him know his water was ready. It’d been modified to keep from letting out a shrill whistle and bursting the wolves eardrums every time they wanted a cuppa. His siblings did some sputtering of their own own. He had to admit, the looks on their faces had been priceless. He’d almost laughed. Almost.

Instead, he busied himself making tea for all of them. Sunny orange ginger for himself, wild raspberry hibiscus for Isaac, yumberry black currant herbal for Boyd, and organic lavender tulsi herbal for Erica. Back in Norwich, they’d practically had an entire cupboard devoted to tea. An entire tea shop worth. Now, they only had those four. Their most basic favorites. Ah well, bless the internet. [Adagio](http://www.adagio.com) was heaven.

“There is no fucking way a human can be an alpha! This is a joke right? I’ve told you before you’re shit at making them,” Erica hissed, glaring at him through narrow slits of lids. Even though Derek wasn’t the type to make jokes like that. He had a dry, flat humor that could be hard for people to get. So rather than replying, he just shoved her tea into her hands before grabbing his own and stalking off to the living room with a glower.

It didn’t take long for the others to join him. Even so, he didn’t speak. Just kept glowering into his tea and thought through the encounter again and again. Stiles changed his perspective on the supernatural world in so many ways. It just wasn’t fair. Why couldn’t it’ve been anyone else? Anyone at all.

“You really weren’t joking,” Erica muttered eventually, “Shit. What the hell happened out there?”

Derek didn’t look up from the amber liquid that reminded him of Stiles eyes. He was pretty sure that was what pissed him off most. That, at least _physically_ , he was attracted to the prick. “I ran into the alpha of the Stilinski pack. His name is Stiles. I know him and his fucking family. Our moms were real close. They got pregnant with Stiles and Cora at the same time. I _think_ Stiles is the elder of the two, but not by more than a few weeks. Claudia died two years or so before we moved.

“She was a good woman and it was a slow process. It was a neurological disease of some sort if I’m remembering correctly. His father was deputy Stilinski. Guess it’s Sheriff Stilinski now. He’s the one that came that day with...with... _her_ …” Even now, after twelve years, her name tasted like ash and he couldn’t force himself to get it out most days. Especially when they’d know who he was talking about.

“Honestly, I have no idea how he became alpha, where the fuck this pack came from, or how many of them are wolves. Though he did inform me that there are a lot of weres in the world. Somewhere around here lives the Tate family? They’re werecoyotes I believe? He asked a _lot_ of questions but as soon as I started asking any back, I got told we were having dinner with the pack at seven and we’re to bring enough dessert for twelve people with wolf sized appetites. I was also told to tell you lot that he’d appreciate not having to try and get blood stains out of the carpet so if you could behave, that would be great.”

When Derek finished talking, he downed the last of his cooling tea. The ginger soothed the rolling in his stomach that made him want to throw up what little he’d managed to eat that morning from the provisions they’d packed. There hadn’t been much left to share between the four of them so he didn’t have much to throw up if he did end up rushing out.

He let what he said sink in, while at the same time thinking about the phone call to his mother. He really didn’t want to involve her. At all. Maybe he’d only call her as a last resort. A really fucking desperate one.

“So, I can’t rip him to ribbons then?” Erica’s growl and ferociousness in her glowing golden eyes spoke to the fact that this was something she was actually considering as a viable option. Really Derek couldn’t say he’d been surprised. Erica had a bit of a problem with authority figures. Her freedom and independence was something she craved, even as she clung to her siblings with all she had. That was different though and they knew it. Her siblings weren’t trying to hold her down. They just wanted to support her and be her safety net.

Derek sighed so deep he could feel it in his bones. His body practically melted into the overstuffed armchair, eyes closing. He could do this. He was an alpha now, he _had_ to do this. “‘rica as much as I’d love to let you, and trust me, I really would, I’m pretty sure that would be in bad form. Until we get things figured out, we need to at least be civil. Can you do that? For all of us?”

Erica had her eyes narrowed at him and when he looked over at her, she shifted only one claw, using it to flip him off. He had to pinch the bridge of his nose. Erica had amazing control, better than most bitten wolves, but sometimes that control worried him. Because when that control slipped, it slipped hard. Dinner was going to be a nightmare. He just knew it.

“So, what should we take for dessert?”

Derek double checked the text on his phone. Stiles (saved under _The Asshole_ ) had sent along directions with the address. He wasn’t sure if he had the right place or not at first. The house they were about to pull up to was...impressive. Actually, all three of the houses around the cul-da-sac were.

Derek knew Stiles was only twenty-four and the house in front of him was easily as big as the Hale manor, if not bigger, with the two smaller houses flanking it only barely smaller, but not by that much really. It was hard to tell from this perspective. How the fuck did the other man buy any of this? From what he remembered, the Stilinski’s were just another middle class family.

“Fuck. This is where they live? How many did you say there were?” Isaac hissed softly from the passenger seat of his own car. Isaac’s 4Runner was really the only one that could comfortably seat all four of them. The camaro was just too cramped in the end. Same with the F-150. Plus, the 4Runner was the least ostentatious car they owned.

He had to agree with Isaac though. If this was where the Stilinski pack lived, their pack had to be quite large. He parked on the curb, sighing as he looked at the house. It was ten til so they weren’t late yet. They had time to either freak out or get a game plan. Either really worked at this point. “I have no idea how many there are. Just that we have to try. Alright?” he asked of them.

Around him were various sounds of agreement.

“Now, we just need to put on our best ‘Christmas with the family’ faces. Pretend you’re dealing with Peter when he’s had a little too much aconite wine and you don’t want to start an international incident. We can get through this,” Derek muttered. He took a few moments to compose himself, as did his family after they all laughed a little, before they finally got out and started the death march towards another packs den.

As they got near the door, Derek couldn’t help but notice the two strange looking statues flanking either side of it. So similar looking yet so different in their own ways. He couldn’t really explain them. Cubes within cubes within cubes, floating above the ground. They looked almost deadly in their beauty. Like they could destroy everything around them. He couldn’t stop looking at them to be honest.

“What the fuck are those?” Isaac asked softly, voicing Derek’s wonder, his question filled with as much curiosity as he was feeling.

The front door opened, those amber eyes raking over the four of them. A little smile on those lips that looked like they were made to do terrible things. Stiles was dressed differently. More casually, more comfortably. Rather than thick layers hiding him away, the younger male was dressed in a tight white shirt with black ¾ sleeves that said ‘[je m'en fous](I%20don't%20care)’ on it and well worn blue jeans that had probably seen better days but still managed to look amazing on his lithe frame, hugging his body in the best ways. It made Derek’s mouth go dry.

Standing next to him was a short redhead wrapped up in a delightful off the shoulder black and white polka dot dress that had a pleated skirt that fell around her knees. She was barefoot as was Stiles, with her arms crossed and an almost fond expression on her face. She wasn’t looking at any of his pack though. No, she was focused on one of the statues.

“Well curly, this is a tesseract and that is a hypercube. They’re my own design,” the redhead told Isaac, her green eyes sparking with brilliance. “They’re both mathematical and dimensional concepts. Though really all hypercubes are tesseracts. It’s just easier to name one a tesseract and one a hypercube.”

Isaac’s eyes went wide as he took all that in. “And how do you keep them floating like that?”

Stiles laughed a little, his hand reaching out and slipping between the tesseract and the ground with a grin. “That would be two parts science, one part magic. There are powerful magnets buried under the statues that have specific runes carved in them. The same magnets are inside the core of the statues, causing repulsion. The runes keep them from repelling more than a specific distance and from falling over. Normally, you could achieve this without the runes, but...well...around here the stability is something we definitely need. A ram could hit one of these babies and they wouldn’t go anywhere.” The pride in his voice was interesting. He was like a different person than the asshole in the woods. Maybe it was because he was back in his den, surrounded by his pack.

“Wow, that’s amazing,” Isaac muttered softly. He mimicked Stiles actions, reaching under the hypercube, his eyes going wide.

Stiles chuckled a little. “You’ve actually probably heard of both before. From a Wrinkle in Time, the Cube movie series, and even the Avengers. The concepts pop up in pop culture a lot. That’s why I asked this beautiful strawberry blonde goddess to put that Fields Medal to good use and design these for me when I bought the house. Oh, where are our fucking manners? We tend to get a little into our work. I’m Stiles obviously, and this lovely lady is Lydia. Shall we go inside so you can meet everyone else?” Stiles was all smiles as he clapped his hands together.

Derek had to admit, he was impressed by Stiles enthusiasm. And maybe a little freaked out. He could actually remember reading A Wrinkle in Time when he still lived here. It was a really good book with a fascinating premise from what he could remember of it. Maybe he should read it again. He was one of those people who strongly believe that books had no age. He would read Goodnight Moon at fifty if he felt like it.

“Well I’m Derek, that’s Isaac, Erica, and Boyd. The statues really are impressive Lydia. Both beautiful and innovative,” he told them, giving Lydia a genuine smile. One that she returned, even if it was more of a smirk.

After a few more moments, the Hale pack was lead into the house. As you first stepped in, there was a short hall before it opened up to a wide open space that went up two of the three floors, a large staircase right across from the hall. It was well decorated, but still had a homey, lived in feel. Something that was comforting to his wolf, and he imagined most wolves. On the left, he could see a cozy living room but he only got a quick glance before they were taken through a door on the right.

The room was obviously the formal dining room, with a huge mahogany table that seemed to be able to comfortably seat at least 15, if not more, and was holding up well to the sheer volume of food being placed on it. There were already a lot of people in there, getting all the food laid out, and making sure everything was set. The only one he recognized was Sheriff Stilinski, though the man had certainly aged since the last time he’d laid eyes on him. He looked good though. Happy.

When they walked in, all the eyes of the room shifted over to take the new pack in. It was unnerving, to be under their stares. He wished he was better at the whole social interaction shtick. He just wasn’t that great at talking. He’d rather listen. To hear other people speak with passion about the things they love.

“Hey Eyebrows, I’m really glad you came,” Stiles told him softly, running his long bony fingers through his messy hair after everyone had went back to what they were doing.

Jesus, this guy really loved that damn nickname didn’t he? Derek knew he had... _strong_...eyebrows but c’mon. “Well you didn’t make it a choice kind of thing Stiles.”

He wondered if his mother would remember Stiles birth name. If the Eyebrows thing were to continue, he might need something to fight back with. He had no idea what the man’s real name was, just that it wasn’t an english name and that it wasn’t pronounceable by the common tongue. He was around 95% sure it was Polish. That was one hard language.

Stiles blushed and actually looked, and smelled, a little ashamed. It was a horrible scent when mixed with Stiles normal one. He didn’t like it at all and then he didn’t like himself for caring what he smelled like. Stiles was a rival alpha at worst and a pain in the ass at best.

“I know. I shouldn’t have been such a douche to you in the woods. I just struggle with shit like this. You are a threat. All four of you are. However, you are a very small threat compared to whatever is out there right now, dropping bodies left and right. What’s out there now has me in a piss poor mood though and then there you were, yet another threat, and I reacted. Badly. So, I am sorry. I do want to figure out a solution to our problem but first, I want us to eat and just...relax. Because I need to relax before something spontaneously combusts,” Stiles told him, amber eyes locked onto his hazel ones and refusing to let go. The truth in his eyes and the beat of his heart surprised him. He knew there was something in there Stiles was leaving unsaid though. Then again, they were surrounded by people who could hear them without even trying.

Derek nodded. “Okay. I understand the questions, and I know I reacted poorly to them and to you. As for the threat, maybe we can help you.”

“Maybe.” He smiled softly. “For now, introductions and food? I’ll introduce mine and then you can introduce yours?”

“Sounds good.”

Stiles let out a piercing whistle that made the werewolves ears ring. It was like being back in highschool and hearing the damn bell ring. He definitely had everyone’s attention though.

“Alright! Derek and I are going to do introductions for our packs so! In the Stilinski pack we have: the werewolves, Scott, Danny, and Jackson. The banshee Lydia. The human huntress Allison. The parentals John and Melissa,” Stiles introduced, pointing them out one by one. “Kira, our lovely kitsune, is in Japan, and the other parental Chris, isn’t welcome in our home.”

Derek was shocked. Their pack was like a damn grab bag. Hell, the werewolves were out numbered in the pack. Could they even be considered a werewolf pack in that case? He was getting another headache and human medication did nothing. This is why he hated the thought of being an alpha growing up and was always glad it would be his twin. Of course, he never could get what he wanted. Somewhere, Laura was laughing and she had no idea why.

“That’s Isaac, Erica, and Boyd. We’re all werewolves. We come from a family of werewolves,” Derek said with a simple shrug.

Stiles grinned and shook his head. “Now that that’s out of the way, food! Sit by me, Eyebrows?”

Derek rolled his eyes but nodded, sitting next to Stiles. No one reached for anything though. It was like they were waiting for something. Stiles opened his mouth to speak but then his eyes landed on Lydia and he started to frown.

“This is supposed to be a nice, civilized dinner Lydia Anne Martin,” he hissed before his gaze swiveled around to Allison, who squirmed under his glare. “Are you kidding me? I want all of you to divest yourself of any and all weapons, right now!” He looked, and sounded, pissed.

Derek watched in horrified fascination as Lydia slipped two fingers into her cleavage and pulled a small, round vial out. As soon as it hit her plate, it was like some sort of nightmare dam burst free. Knives, chains, more vials, even a gun came out. Not just from Lydia and Allison either. No, even the werewolves were armed. He really didn’t understand why werewolves would arm themselves like a hunter.

Stiles looked around at all the weapons, shaking his head. “Really mom? Really?” he snorted, looking at the modified epipen on Melissa’s plate. Derek had to wonder what was in it. Just like he wondered what the _fuck_ was contained within the various vials.

“Jackson, grab a box and put everyone’s shit in it. I will deal with all of you later. Just know that I am seriously disappointed in each and every one of you. Derek, I would like to apologize for my idiotic pack. I’d say they’re not usually like this but why lie? Don’t take it personally, they aren’t big fans of anyone new,” Stiles hissed at his blond beta who jumped into action before turning to Derek with a frown and a sigh. He looked far older than his twenty-four years in that moment.

Derek arched a brow. “Were they planning on bumping us off while we ate? And here I thought you didn’t want to have to try and get blood out of your carpets,” he muttered with a smirk. The ones that heard looked ashamed, averting their eyes. He figured light teasing and banter was easier than letting Stiles sit and stew until he killed off his own pack like it looked like he was contemplating.

Stiles sighed again, running those sinful fingers through his hair. Fuck, that was turning into a distraction for his poor, pitifully neglected libido. “I should hope not since they are armed nearly twenty-four seven. They were told to come to dinner unarmed though. And fuck you, I had to replace the carpeting the last time someone had a hissy fit and decided to bleed all over it.”

“Does that happen often?” Isaac sounded horrified but like he couldn’t not ask either.

Snorting, Stiles nodded. “Gather a bunch of supernatural egos in one room and there will be blood. Hell, the first time I met Malia, that’s one of the Tate’s, I ended up stabbing her. She’s a werecoyote and fairly feral. Most of her family is crazy weird so they get a plot of the preserve all to themselves so we don’t have to worry about each other. Word of advice, if you see one of the Tate’s, just tell them you’re under our pack’s protection so they don’t touch you. They love toying with new faces.”

As Jackson finished and set the box aside, he rolled his eyes. “Why not tell them what she did after you stabbed her?”

Jackson’s words made Derek curious. Especially when it caused the man next to him to flush a tantalizing shade of red. It made his pale flesh look simply delectable. Yeah, he needed to get laid. Badly. That was all. “After I attacked her with a blade, she decided the appropriate response was to attack me...with her lips. Like I said, she’s not exactly mentally stable.”

“And yet, you dated her,” Scott teased.

John, who had a fond smile, laughed, “To be fair, Stiles has never been exactly sane.”

Watching them bicker reminded him of pack dinners his family would have before they moved. That was one thing moving took away. An expansion of the pack slowly changed the feeling of the dinners until there was simply too many in the pack to have dinners like these. Derek didn’t realize how much he missed this. He and his three siblings often had dinners together but four people just wasn't the same thing.

Stiles glared around the room with a little growl. “I hate all of you. So much.” You could hear the lie in his heart and the way he couldn’t keep himself from grinning after a moment. “Alright. Enough torturing your alpha.” He turned towards Derek, the grin still in place. “I would like to formally thank the Hale pack, on behalf of the Stilinski pack, for coming and breaking bread with us. We hope to find a peaceful and mutually beneficial solution to our current problems. For now, let us eat, drink, and be merry.”

Both packs clapped after Stiles’ short but amazingly heartfelt speech. Derek had no idea what had changed between when they’d met only hours earlier in the day and in that moment but if Stiles was truly willing to try, well then, Derek needed to too. For his pack at the very least.

“Thank you Stiles. We were happy to accept and we hope you enjoy the desserts Boyd made as much as we always do. I think he made [pumpkin with cream cheese cupcakes](http://www.browneyedbaker.com/pumpkin-cupcakes-with-cream-cheese-frosting/) and [apple cake with caramel](http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/food-network-kitchens/caramel-apple-cake-recipe2.html). Right?” A quick glance at Boyd confirmed it. “I hope we can find peace as well.”

“That sounds fucking delicious. Well, for dinner tonight, mom decided to do an around the world style meal. It’s kind of our favorite thing around here. So, mom?”

Melissa smiled tenderly at Stiles, like being called mom warmed her heart no matter how often she heard it, before she started pointing dishes out. “From Mexico we have[ Chicken Taco Soup](http://allrecipes.com/recipe/slow-cooker-chicken-taco-soup/), from Poland we have [Halushki](http://allrecipes.com/recipe/halushki/), from Hawaii we have [Shoyu Chicken](http://allrecipes.com/recipe/shoyu-chicken/) with rice, and from Japan we have [Sesame Green Beans](http://allrecipes.com/recipe/japanese-style-sesame-green-beans/). Oh and salad as well. Of course, each dish represents someones heritage in the pack.”

Derek’s mouth was literally watering. He was curious who the dishes belonged to though. He could guess about the polish dish and maybe even the Mexican one but not the others. They all looked and smelled delicious though.

“Thanks mom! Alright, [jedzmy](let's%20eat)!” Stiles clapped his hands together before diving straight into the halushki, which sounded so very weird but smelled like heaven. He had no idea what jedzmy meant but it seemed to be the magic word that got everyone moving. The shoyu was calling his name, and he fought his way to that, adding a few green beans and some salad as well. The sheer amount of food made Derek think they’d planned on having a pack dinner and they were just four more mouths.

Once everyone’s plates were full, the packs started to mingle. Scott and Isaac fell into an easy conversation about their respective medical fields, despite how different their patients were and how they used their gifts to help them and their patients out. Boyd and Melissa were discussing various recipes and the merits of certain ingredients. Erica seemed to be talking to Jackson about some horror movie or other. It made him feel good to know that, at the very least, they could be civil.

Derek turned to Stiles as they ate, deciding that being civil with the other ‘alpha’ would be best for everyone. “So...what do you do? Outside the pack I mean. You’d mentioned owning a store?” Derek was actually curious about that one, he had to admit.

“I own a modern day apothecary. At least, that’s what I jokingly call it. It’s actually The Healing Touch and I make and sell things like lotions to cure things like rosacea and tinctures for headaches. Some of them purely natural, some of them a bit more... _mystical_ . All of them functional for what they’re made for. I also make a few...less than savory...things. Strictly for the pack though. I would _**never** _ sell a weapon, a poison. It goes against my very nature to protect,” Stiles explained to him with a soft smile and a proud, far away look. It was an interesting look indeed. One he could admit he found pretty attractive on the younger male. Even if he could be a pompous asshole. He was still a cute asshole.

Derek gave him his own small smile in return. “That is amazing. Where did you learn to do that kind of thing?”

Stiles swallowed down his food before answering. “This guy, Dr. Deaton. He used to own the vet clinic before Scott took over. We both apprenticed under him, just for different disciplines,” he laughed, smirking a little. There was a twinkle in his eye as he thought back fondly upon it.

Derek’s eyes went wide. “Alan Deaton?” Stiles gave a quick nod. “Huh. He was my mother’s pack emissary before we moved. I had only met him a handful of times but I must say, he was…”

“A fucking cryptic, annoying jackass? Yeah. But...without him three of us would be orphans. Well, Scott’s father would still be alive but that’s not for lack of trying and really, my dad became his father long before he and Melissa got married. Deaton was crazy enigmatic but I owe him so much,” Stiles admitted. He’d put his fork down and was ripping a napkin into miniscule little bits. His eyes weren’t really focused on the here and now. It was like he was reliving whatever tragedy had befallen his pack before.

Derek’s attention was taken away from the expression on Stiles face by a flying green bean. Those amber eyes snapped to the culprit, wide with shock at having a green bean thrown at him. It was still nestled in his hair. Stiles didn’t seem to notice though.

“¿[En serio](Seriously)? Allison Rosalie Argent-McCall! We do _not_ assault people with our vegetables,” Melissa scolded at her, shaking her head at one of her many children. Derek hardly heard the second half of what she said though. The name alone was enough to get his blood boiling.

His chair clattered loudly to the floor as he stood, the shift ripping through him without a single thought. Anger poured off of him, making him shake. He didn’t know who he wanted to kill more, the hunter who sat at a table of werewolves as though she hadn’t been trained to kill them all or the man who knew what Kate Argent had done to him, had been there the day his father had arrested her and still forced him to dinner with another Argent without any fucking warning or choice to stay the _fuck_ away.

“What the _fucking hell_ Derek? Put the wolf the fuck away! What is your problem?” Stiles screamed as he jumped up too, his eyes hard with anger. As though he had any right to be angry.

Derek refused to put his wolf away. Instead, he slurred around his fangs. “A fucking Argent, Stiles? I know you were young but did you really forget what happened the last time an Argent came near me?!”

The blood drained out of Stiles face. He chewed on his lip for a moment before turning back to the rest of the packs, who were on edge too. Thankfully, Allison was both flanked by Scott and Danny as well as unarmed so she couldn’t get to his pack or him easily.

“Scott, Alycat, go to your house for the night. It’s going to be okay. This is my fault, not yours. I didn’t think. It’s going to be okay. Everyone else, to the other house. Mom, dad, you can go wherever you want that isn’t here. I think I need to explain high school to Derek,” Stiles told them before turning back to Derek. “If you don’t want your pack around mine, they can go home but I swear to you, Jackson, Danny, and Lydia won’t harm them.”

Derek focused on his breathing as Allison got up and practically drug Scott out of the room and then the house, heart beating rabbit fast in her chest, the scent of fear coming off her as deep anger rolled off of him. Once she was too far away to hear anymore, he managed to shift everything but his eyes back to their more natural, human state. His posture didn’t ease though.

Glaring at Stiles with murder in his eyes, he muttered, “My siblings know that I don’t make decisions for them. They can go where they please. They’re my siblings first and my betas second.”

The man nodded shortly. “Wonderful. The six of you can kindly fuck off now then. Mom, dad, I’m sorry about dinner. The food was delicious. I will make this up to you though. I always do. I love you both.”

It took surprisingly short amount of time to get everyone out of the house. For some reason, he’d thought both packs would put up more of a fight. They were leaving their alphas to possibly kill each other after all. And really, that sounded so much more appealing than talking through their problems.

As soon as they watched their packs close the door of the other house and they’d closed the door of the one they were in, he turned to Stiles and growled, “I am going to rip your fucking throat out! With my fucking teeth!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this story, the Hale house is three stories. I really hope you guys like it. Your comments, kudos, and support make writing so much easier. Big thanks to Mermaid_Failbetter for the dessert recommendations! I love you guys <3
> 
> Translations:  
> Je m'en fous = I don't care  
> Jedzmy = Let's eat  
> En serio = Seriously


	7. Our Little Talks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Wait. You went into an Argent’s home, with only another Argent as backup, and proceeded to threaten him with a gun. Do...Do you have no survival instinct at all?” Derek asked incredulously. Those gorgeous eyes made of every color widened. He looked like he thought Stiles was crazy. Which...was definitely a fair thought. “How are you still alive?”
> 
> Stiles snorted. He shook his head, eyes rolling. “Sure, I have amazing survival instinct. I’m also an amazing marksman and function well in fear and crisis. The man shot my fucking brother . He almost shot me . And back then, healing from that would’ve been a bitch.” He’d just discovered his spark back then. He didn’t have any of the protection he had now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is like all background and the start of shit. The language Stiles speaks is Polish. Both he and Derek are polygolts, by the way. (That means they speak lots of languages.) I'm not sure how many they speak though or which just yet. Polish is definitely common ground for them though. 
> 
> Stiles also explains his sexuality in this chapter. I myself am pansexual so that is where my "expertise" lies. I have no personal experience with demi-sexuality but I did read up on it and I believe that's the general interpretation, molded to fit Stiles himself. Yup, yup. I really hope I don't offend anyone. Enjoy!!

Oh fuck. Stiles had made a lot of mistakes in his twenty-four years, quite a few of them being in high school alone. He thought he’d gotten better, the longer he’d been alpha. This mistake though? This one topped the charts since he’d graduated high school. And now, he was going to fucking _die_ because of it.

Derek’s words caused a shiver to run down his spine. Huh, maybe other alphas could still terrify him. Or maybe it was just this specific alpha? Mostly because it felt like this alpha fucking sort of _meant_ it, and he was unarmed except for his magic and he didn’t know what to do with it that wouldn’t leave him feeling even guiltier later on.

Without taking his eyes off of Derek, the human alpha took a few steps back. He nearly wept when his back hit the wall, a long staff digging into his back. Protection. Slowly and carefully he reached behind himself as he spoke. “Please don’t kill me. I can explain everything. Allison is nothing like Kate. I swear.”

“You’re blind if you believe that! She’s a hunter! She was raised to kill my kind, just like Kate!” Derek roared, starting to move forward.

Four years of lacrosse, years of running with werewolves, and a few wonderful magically imbued tattoos gave Stiles amazingly fast reflexes. He got the staff out from behind him, getting both hands on it and holding it out away from himself like a barrier before Derek could get anywhere near him. The staff was made from rowan wood, carved with runes to give it a few different abilities in the hands of the spark. In anyone else's hands? It was just a regular bo staff, which could still do some serious damage, even against wolves.

“If you try coming any closer, you _will_ regret it. Allison was taught to be a hunter but we were all trained to be fighters. We all know the weapons we prefer and, well, this was made for idiot wolves. Now, we are going to talk. Yes, yes?” Stiles asked him, arching a brow. The way he held the long staff would allow him to hit Derek across the cheek and give him a little phantom burn. Or knock his legs out and force him on the floor.

Derek continued to snarl but at least he halted his frankly terrifying advance. Though he did continue to try and kill him by sheer force of glare alone. Thankfully glares were something he was more than used to. He’d been a difficult child and teachers had rarely been _fond_ of him. Harris in particular had a strong hatred for him. He’d found it difficult to mourn his death. “Fine, we can talk. And _then_ I am going to kill you.”

Stiles rolled his eyes a little. He just barely contained the urge to whack his arm with his bo staff just to teach him that he wasn’t that fucking easy to kill, and that, as far as threats go, that’s pretty weak. “I feel like I should put a ring of mountain ash around your chair so I don’t have to worry about you the entire time I’m talking,” he muttered, “but you are so going into the living room first. No sneak attacks that way asshole.”

It took nearly ten minutes, a lot of growling, and some serious self control but they eventually made it into the living room. Feeling like he’d forced Derek to be in his house enough as was, Stiles decided to circle _himself_ in mountain ash. He really hadn’t been kidding about that part. He just prayed the need to pee didn't come over him during this because, come on, that just wouldn't be fair. 

“You need to understand, this time of my life is really hard to talk about,” Stiles muttered with a soft sigh, glancing over at Derek. He knew he needed to talk about this but it didn’t make it easier. It would never make it easier.

Once Derek nodded, Stiles started talking. “As you know, my mother died when I was very young. After she died, I started spending a lot of time w-with my dad. I practically grew up in the station, to the point where the deputies started to teach me how to be a damn good criminal just for the fun of it. They taught me to pick locks, get out of most bindings but especially handcuffs. I was taught how to shoot a gun and how to physically defend myself. Some of them would even give me solved cases with the convicted party taken out to teach me how to look at things like that as a puzzle. By the time I turned sixteen, I was...morbidly curious.”

Stiles closed his eyes, swallowing hard. “It was that morbid curiosity that was the catalyst that set in motion the changes that, at the very least, forever changed Scott and I’s lives. Do you know, it’s my fault Scott got bit?” He knew, without a doubt he stank of guilt. Guilt was one of the hardest emotions to control, to keep oneself from projecting. Mostly because it tends to be all consuming. Much like grief.

There were two things Stiles had better control of than anyone else he knew. His emotions and his heartbeat. Though only in projecting them. It came in handy, being the alpha of three beings with preternatural senses. Lying was something he was good at too. And not just to regular humans either.

Stiles had found two ways to lie to walking lie detectors. The first was easy. Just a hint of pain to help regulate one's heartbeat and pupil response. Or the better option? Simply believe in the lie. Believe what you’re saying and even your body will react accordingly. A hard skill to master but so very useful. He tried not to lie though. It always seemed to leave a horrid taste in his mouth.

Derek frowned deeply. “What are you talking about Stiles? How the hell is it your fault, morbid curiosity or not…?” He seemed truly baffled, and maybe even a little angry. Shocking.

His eyes fell to his hands, twitching like they used to when his ADHD was at it’s height of its annoyance. Fuck did he hate talking about this. About any of his high school years really. He had to talk about it though. If only to make Derek understand his pack and _why_ Allison was a valuable part of it. How she was nothing like Katherine Jeanne Argent, that absolutely _vile_ woman who he would happily make pay for her lifetime of crimes.

After a moment, he pulled up his feet, arms wrapped around his knees. He found himself staring at the familiar mocha colored carpet, unable to face Derek as he made his horrific confession. “I was just barely sixteen at the time… My father got a p-phone call that someone had found half of the body of who we l-later found out was Lorelei Haskoli. She was a local college student, an avid hiker. I overheard the phone call, and somewhere in that fucked up, **morbidly curious** teenage brain of mine, I th-thought going and searching for the other half was a remotely good idea. Not _once_ did I stop and think of her as someone’s _fucking_ daughter, or lover.”

The young alpha was shaking. He was filled with a torrid wave of terrible emotions he couldn’t contain. Self-loathing, guilt, and disgust all for himself. Oh how he hated himself sometimes. “I-I forced my _asthmatic_ best friend into the woods, in the middle of the night. What we didn’t know, was that it was a rogue alpha who killed her. My dad actually caught m-me. Scott hid a-and I refused to sell h-him out.” He scoffed. “Like a fool, I refused to sell him out. He found the other half of the body, trying to find his way home. The alpha bit him. And then went on to bite four other people and kill another eleven, before we could find and kill him.”

“You were sixteen and had no idea this world existed. I’m pretty sure you couldn’t have ever guessed something like that when you stepped into the woods that night. Where does Allison come in though?” Derek was speaking surprisingly calm and rational. It made Stiles happy. Maybe he was calming down enough to actually hear what was being said. Hopefully.

Stiles managed to look up and take Derek in. He needed to see his reactions and gauge how this was going to go. If it didn’t go well? Well then, it was going to probably end in the two packs fighting for the territory. A nightmare he didn’t want to face.

“Aly wasn’t raised like most Argent’s. In fact, she didn’t find out about werewolves until she started dating one. She was taught to shoot and is an amazing gymnast and can fight with the best of them but they never told her why they wanted her to learn these things.” He cleared his throat, running his fingers through his hair as he closed his eyes. “I was actually the one that told her. The family moved here after Lydia was bitten and ended up in a coma. Funnily enough, banshee’s are immune to werewolf bites. The first full moon after they came? They went into the woods to hunt us. Scott, Jackson and I that is. Lydia had woken up but she was a little too weak physically yet to come running with us and Danny hadn’t been bitten at that point.”

A wave of anger came over him as he remembered that moon. Not the worst by far but it still pissed him off so much. It was the day he realized that there were people who hunted them as monsters and they lived in his town now. It stole away that last bit of innocence still left in his heart. For someone who spoke of his precious code like it was his salvation, Chris Argent sure didn’t care about innocent ones that night. He didn’t even care to make sure the one they shot wasn’t human. His hands balled into fists and he was thinking of a new reason to justifiably harm Chris...and soon.

“Chris, Allison’s father and Kate’s brother, shot Scott with a crossbow bolt. We fled that night, but the next day, I called a pack meeting I guess you could say? And had Scott invite Allison. While the other three talked, I took her upstairs and I told her _everything_ . She made me take her home,” he muttered, “when she knew it was just her father, and we confronted him. That was the first time I threatened him with a gun. The first of _many_.”

“Wait. You went into an Argent’s home, with only another Argent as backup, and proceeded to threaten him with a gun. Do...Do you have _no_ survival instinct at all?” Derek asked incredulously. Those gorgeous eyes made of every color widened. He looked like he thought Stiles was crazy. Which...was definitely a fair thought. “How are you still alive?”

Stiles snorted. He shook his head, eyes rolling. “Sure, I have amazing survival instinct. I’m also an amazing marksman and function well in fear and crisis. The man shot my fucking _brother_ . He almost shot _me_. And back then, healing from that would’ve been a bitch.” He’d just discovered his spark back then. He didn’t have any of the protection he had now.

“So...what happened?”

He sighed softly, leaning back in the chair. He could still remember walking into that house. He had been scared, but the anger running through his veins outweighed the fear easily. It was a miracle he hadn’t shot Chris that day, just for the fun of it. The man could survive without a toe or two. “Allison spent an hour yelling at her father for lying to her and hiding things from her before storming up to her room, leaving Chris and I to ‘ _talk_ ’ for a while.”

Allison had been so angry. Though he couldn’t blame her in the least. It was a betrayal he could never understand, no, but one he could sympathize with. To keep something so fundamental to who her entire family was from her was sickening. He swore that day to never keep those kinds of things from his children, when he had them. They would know about all the things that go bump in the night because it was a fundamental part of his life, all of their lives.

It was almost funny, how Chris reacted when they were alone. He hadn’t wanted to threaten the man in front of Allison, even if she knew it was happening, because he was still her father. It wasn’t something she needed to see. Of course, Chris thought he had the upper hand, talking to Stiles like he was a child. Until Stiles pulled out the beautiful Smith & Wesson M&P 9mm that his father had bought him for his fourteenth birthday. Oh how he’d loved that gun.

“Our talk involved my nine millimeter Smith and Wesson and him thinking I was joking when I started to threaten him. I ended up cheerfully shooting one of his wife’s favorite vases with a smile and looking in his eyes the entire time. I told him the next time it would be something a little more vital to his being, like a kneecap. Can’t run through the woods without one of those,” he told him with a bit of a bitter laugh, holding his knees tighter. “After that, Alycat came down with two bags and came home with me. She declared herself my beta, submitted fully, and moved in. Her parents tried to force her home and she eventually went to court to emancipate herself. See, she has been pack the entire time she’s known about the supernatural. _Not_ a hunter.”

Derek looked thoughtful as he contemplated everything Stiles had said. It was obvious he still thought he was insane but he really seemed to be considering the new information. He supposed he could give him the insane part. There was a time when he had prided himself on the crazy stupid shit he would do. He kind of still did really. He was just more responsible about it now.

“I can’t really see the Argent’s willingly letting their sixteen year old daughter move in with you,” Derek murmured skeptically.

Stiles shrugged. “Oh, they didn’t exactly. She didn’t give them a choice, but an ultimatum. Either they sign over temporary custody to my father or she would run away with her werewolf boyfriend. Of course, that meant coming up with a good enough lie for it all. Which was a nightmare. --oh and she was seventeen at the time actually. Held back a year due to moving nearly constantly growing up,” he replied, with a little chuckle. He was damn proud of his warrior princess.

“Granted, that little threat nearly got my brother killed. Victoria strapped him down before using a vaporizer to mist wolfsbane and slowly poison him. It was sheer dumb luck that we actually found them in time. We were at a fucking rave at The Jungle and he disappeared but Allison was still with me. When we found them, I shot her in the foot to keep her from running while Allison cut him free. She favors knives and crossbows,” he told the other alpha calmly,” I favor guns and staffs. As a rule, we all know how to use every weapon just in case. Should we ever need to use what is available to use and not have access to our own.” There was no mistaking the pride and sheer joy in his voice as he spoke of shooting Victoria Argent. That was also what prompted Allison to go to court for emancipation.

“ _How_ are you still _**alive** _?”

“Because she’s not.”

Derek’s eyes went a little wide at that, though he in _no way_ looked displeased by this latest development. “You _killed_ her?”

Now Stiles looked downright offended by his question. Offended enough to get a little revenge for it because really, he wasn’t a good guy but he wasn’t straight up evil. “Niewielka na wstrzasy,” he hissed under his breath, flicking his middle and ring finger towards Derek. A slight shift in the air, nearly impossible to sense, even with preternatural abilities. It hit Derek’s lower leg, causing the muscle to spasm violently. “Fuck you, Eyebrows. I am a _lot_ of things! A cold blooded killer isn’t one of them,” he growled.” She killed herself.”

“The rogue alpha bit her and the Argent’s, like most hunter families I would guess, have a whole death before dishonor thing. She committed seppuku to keep from being turned into a ‘beast’. Which I hate her so much for.”

Holding his leg, Derek growled softly. Stiles had to work hard not to laugh. “Okay. One, fucking _ow_ ! Two, seriously _**ow** _. Three, what the hell did you do to me?! And four...was there a four? Oh yeah, how did Allison take it?”

Yeah okay, he was surrounded by mountain ash. Fuck it. He let go and started to laugh. Who could blame him though? The look on his face was so priceless. And fuck, Derek had the whole ‘tough guy’ look going on. “Alright, so, I’m going to go ahead and ignore the first two because they aren’t really relevant and you deserved them. Plus I know for a fact that it doesn’t hurt that bad,” he winked. “As for three, I already told you. I’m a powerful spark. That’s one of the kinds of magics I can do. A simple spell really. Just a very mild shock. Like a taser at half capacity. Four? That one you need to talk to Allison about. Just know she helped kill the alpha with us and it was the start of our horrible high school adventures. I will say that she filed for emancipation after her suicide and continued to live with my father and I legally, though she spent half her time at Lydia’s and quite a bit at Scott’s.”

“ _Fuck you_ it’s very relevant,” Derek growled, eyes flashing red. They went back to their natural state after a few heartbeats. “So that’s why you smell like ozone and licorice sometimes. It’s odd because you only smell that way some of the time, not always. --I...will think about it. For now, I think it’s better we aren’t alone together.”

Huh. So that’s what his magic smelled like. He wondered idly if all spark magic smelled the same or if it was as unique as the spark themselves. He’d have to look into that one day. “That would be my spark I think. You know, I’ve never actually asked what my magic smells like. I like it. I think it smells like _me_. As for the only sometimes thing, my magic - or spark - isn’t something that’s always active I guess you could say. When I call upon it though, it flares to life, giving me an extra layer of scent. It’s weird though because I have magical tattoos and you’d think it’d make my spark active twenty-four seven. My artist, well my _first_ artist, explained it all when I got my first one, but I was just turning eighteen and the entire pack was getting the same one, and it was at the height of my ADHD problems, so I wasn’t really paying attention. For all the research I do, I never thought to go back and research that again.”

Stiles could remember asking once, when they were tracking an omega through their territory for the first time, what a werewolf smelled like though. What that subtle smell that wrapped around them, underneath it all was. Scott had told him it was the moonlight. Stiles didn’t even know that was a scent but Scott had told him that was as close as he could get and he couldn’t begin to discribe it. It was just instinctual.

Stiles smiled softly to himself as he remembered his 18th birthday. They were in the middle of dealing with an annoying infestation of gremlins but let it be said that nothing can deter the great Lydia Anne Martin from throwing a party. He could honestly say he hadn’t expected it. Especially on the scale she’d achieved. Not with everything going on.

By that time, they’d made a lot of friends and ally’s in the supernatural community, and would make even more in college. When he walked into the Martin’s backyard, it was filled with those supernatural friends. A party where no one had to hide who they were or what they liked to do.

People like the Larson twins, Ethan and Aiden, alphas who came into power through questionable means sure, but were still good people, particularly Ethan. People like everyone’s favorite mermaid Tynichia Eaves. Tyni was a strange shifter who worked at Stiles favorite bookshop, Title Wave, over along the coast. There was sweet Charlie Allan of course, another werewolf who started as a scared omega before being taken in by the twins pack. They’d even invited _all_ of the teenaged Tate’s, which made things interesting. And so many more.

Playing ‘ _dodge the crazy ex_ ’ was worth it when he started opening presents and found one from the pack as a whole. Just a thin, almost innocent looking envelope, but the entire pack had tensed as soon as he picked it up, holding their collective breaths in anticipation. Inside was a gorgeous sketch of their pack symbol that had nearly brought him to tears, and the details of when the entire pack was due at Dermal Addiction for their first session.

Dermal Addiction was unlike any other tattoo shop you’ve ever heard of. Their clients were all supernatural or supernatural adjacent. They were one of the few places on the west coast that specialized in both were’ and magical tattoos. Perfect for what Stiles had dreamed of, ever since he learned that there was such a thing.

“You have a tattoo?” Derek asked with a small, interested smile. There was this cute little spark in his eyes. Stiles knew he didn’t look like the kind to have tattoos. What with the nerdy exterior and the goofy, sarcastic way of talking. They were all easily concealed at the moment. Mostly because he couldn’t choose what he wanted to be visible to the world.

Stiles cocked his head to the side with a little smirk. “Oh Eyebrows, I have a _lot_ of them. I’m a bit of an...addict. Maybe I’ll let you see them sometime,” he murmured with a wink. Wait...was he flirting? Holy _fucking_ Batman, he was flirting with Derek Hale, the man who wanted to kill him only a little more than an hour ago. Had he lost his mind? Well, that implied he had it in the first place though.

“Who knows, maybe I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” he teased, giving him a pretty hot smirk back. Okay, so he wasn’t the only one flirting but fuck that sounded suggestive and while it made his stomach flutter, it did nothing like he imagined Derek imagined it would.

Chewing his lip, he took a moment to think about how to proceed. “Hey Eyebrows,” his voice was soft, “I have a weird but...important...question. How well do you know your sexualities? Specifically demi-sexuality?” He played with the hem of his shirt, waiting but worried for the answer. He may be out and damn proud but people rarely got it and most couldn’t be bothered with ‘ _someone like him_ ’ so he always dreaded explaining.

Derek’s beautifully emotive eyebrows pushed together (They were **so close** to being reunited!) as he answered, “I’d like to say I’m pretty well versed. When we moved to Norwich, someone at school joked that Laura and I could be the schools very own Kinsey Scale. Put us six feet apart, stick someone in the middle, and wherever they ended up where they fell on the Kinsey Scale. Honestly, with a pack as large as my mother’s, you’re bound to get a little bit of everything but demi-sexual isn’t one I’m familiar with.”

It started with an innocent snort and ended in a good laugh when Derek told him about his old school’s joke. It actually made him a little more relaxed. If he were to take the test, he was pretty sure he’d be one of the people whimpering in the middle with whiplash as he tried to get a good look at both of them at the same time.

When he stopped laughed, Stiles sobered up quickly. He had really been hoping he wouldn’t have to explain but, he could do this. He knew he could. He took a deep breath before he started talking. “Okay so you’ve heard of being asexual before at least?” Derek thankfully bobbed his head. “So like, for me anyway, I don’t feel sexually attracted to people either. However, unlike asexual people, it’s followed by an _unless_ . I don’t feel sexual attraction _unless_ I have a strong emotional connection to the person. That’s not to say my eyes or dick are broke and I love to flirt but I learned a long time ago to make sure the person I’m flirting with understands at least a little. Well, the ones I plan on seeing again…”

“Huh.” There was a short pause where Derek was once again left to ponder Stiles’ words while he let him and just tried to keep calm.

Honestly, Stiles had no clue as to why he’s started flirting with Derek. Sure, the other alpha was built like a minor fucking deity but, while aesthetically pleasing, it did nothing for him (yet at least). He kind of wanted to poke the wolf until he poked back. He wanted to see if Derek could really sass as good as Stiles thought he could. Only Lydia could keep up with him but she often got bored or just flat out refused.

“Thank you for telling me, Stiles,” he murmured with a small but warm smile. “Is there a line? I mean, when it comes to flirting, is there a line I shouldn’t cross? Because you _infuriate_ me and I still want to kick your ass a little bit, but the flirting? I don’t really want that to stop.”

The blush that covered Stiles’ face made it look like he’d gotten into Lydia’s rouge again. He could feel his naturally fast heartbeat picking up at the thought of, well, _anyone_ wanting to keep flirting with him after learning about his sexuality. He loved who he was but it got a little disheartening after a while.

“I mean, not really? Depends I guess.”

“What does it depend on.”

“The intent behind it, Eyebrows. If you’re flirting just to flirt, keep it PG. If you’re flirting with solid intent to do something, in the long run, then maybe around PG-13ish for now with the possibility for R in the future,” Stiles replied with a slight shrug. As tempting as it was to look away, he made himself maintain eye contact as he spoke. He needed the other to know he meant it.

The answer seemed to make Derek happy, which was good. It made his stomach clench happily in return. “I can definitely work with that. Please tell me if I ever go too far or make you uncomfortable though. So, anything else we need to talk about while you’re in your little _bubble of safety_ or can we actually do something fun? I love hearing you talk about the past, the good parts anyway, but I’d rather we be able to enjoy ourselves.”

“As long as I get to have my fun and flirt too!” Derek’s question made him cringe. Though the last bit was really sweet. “How about I just tell you what you’ve decided to ignore asking the entire time before stealing the desserts your brother made and lounging on my hella comfy sofa to watch a kick ass movie?”

The smile that had lit up Derek’s star burst eyes melted away into something between a scowl and a frown.

“ _Kate Argent_ …”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *snickers* Hope you enjoyed! As always, you guys are what keep me going. I am so glad you all are enjoying it so far and I hope you continue to do so. In the next chapter or two, the big bad from earlier is going to come back. Anyone want to guess what it is? I'll give you two hints. One is from the story itself: the victims are drained dry. Two: they smell like silk. Good luck. ; )
> 
> Stiles magic will not come with translations, as the literal meaning will sometimes not make sense to the magic he's creating. Though what he says in this chapter is 'small shock' haha.


	8. These Bruises Make For Better Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “How is he _technically_ anything?”
> 
> Sighing, Stiles shrugged a little, leaning his shoulder more into the couch as he tucked his feet under himself more comfortably. “He’s still Allison’s father and part of the hunter alliance. Personally, I’d like him to be _technically_ dead most days. He falls into the parental pack, subpack, whatever, even if mom and dad hardly speak to him. No one else’s parents know. Even though they’ve almost found out several times over the years.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow this took me forever to actually type up. I've had it written for a while just...*sighs* Life. Yeah. Umm...Stiles dissertation is based on one that I found online. (Which I would kill to actually read but they didn't have the full dissertation, just the description). Please remember that as far as the sexual attraction, observations will always be far heavier from Derek's side than Stiles, but that doesn't mean Stiles is blind and doesn't appreciate Derek's beauty.

As soon as that name passed Stiles lips, Derek wanted to go back to the flirting. Actually, the flirting was really freaking nice. It felt natural. Like soft, teasing banter. He’d never really flirted with anyone like that before. At least, not with it feeling so right. He couldn’t help but wonder if it meant something or if it was just a  _ Stiles  _ thing. A result of being near his weird, but cute, ass. 

He was glad he’d opened up about his sexuality. It made Derek feel better to know that Stiles wasn’t sexually attracted to him, as fucked up as it might sound. It just always seemed like that was what everyone he’d dated in the past liked most about him was his body. His ‘sex appeal’. And fuck, that’s what Derek always hated, wasn’t it? He’d only been reaquainted with Stiles for what? Eight hours? If that? And he wanted to ask him out. Despite his glaring personality flaws. Of which, there were many he could see. (Though, they could definitely grow on him.) 

Derek couldn’t do that though. Oh no. Instead, he got to sit and learn about the woman who ruined his life. Oh joy. Though, as much hate as his heart, mind  _ and  _ spirit held for her though, he would always be happy about his siblings. 

Stiles sighed, shaking his head. He was having trouble figuring out exactly how to say what needed to be said. He started over while Derek worked to remain calm. 

“ Kate Argent...lost whatever mind she had in prison. Personally, I don’t think the  _ bitch  _ had one to begin with. She got out right around the same time the alpha showed up. She came here when she heard about Victoria and Allison. By the time she got here, the alpha was already dead, Victoria was rotting away and Allison was living with me…” Stiles voice was strong right up until the end where it waivered slightly. 

Derek could feel his claws piercing the flesh of his thighs, the tangy cooper scent of his blood permeating the air as he struggled to maintain as much control as possible. “What. Did. She.  _** Do ** _ ,” he spit out. Because he knew, he just  _knew,_ she wouldn't just come into town and then walk back out without doing  _something._  


Stiles tilted his head to the side. “You look beautiful with red eyes.” He whispered the words, almost like he didn’t mean for them to be spoken aloud.  It was actually pretty flattering. It even made him blush a little. 

A quick shake of his head had Stiles talking again as he subconsciously rubbed his left shoulder. The move pushed the collar of his shirt aside enough to show the lines of a curling tattoo. He wondered what it looked like without the fabric hiding most of it. “She decided not to take ‘no’ for an answer when I told her she couldn’t come inside the house. She...uh...she shot me. Allison heard and came downstairs. She only had her daggers though. She cut Kate up pretty bad but she couldn’t do more than that because I needed to get to the hospital before I bled out. Want to know why my girls are so amazing? They come up with the best plans under pressure. She shoved a tampon in the wound to surcease the bleeding while we waited for the ambulance to arrive. I actually have a pretty interesting scar from that one.” The last bit was nothing but a sheer mumbling, spoken like one would speak of something they would truly rather  _not_ have. 

Derek couldn’t help but wonder what Stiles would look like with crimson eyes like a true alpha of a werewolf pack should have. Would they look as beautiful as the red sky at sunset? All thoughts of it, and the star constellation of moles that started by his lips and swept under his shirt, were washed away as Stiles continued though. Kate shot him. Kate shot him because he wouldn’t let her into his home? Fuck, his mother should’ve just killed the woman twelve years ago. Then Stiles life never would’ve ended up like this. 

“Is she...still alive?” Oh wow. Was he slurring his words around his fangs? Good to know he was still completely fucked up because of her. Add in the new power thrumming through his veins and well, the control thing would take a little time there. 

Stiles shrugged and sighed. He leaned back with his eyes closed, a tiny tick in his fingers that were curled around his knees. Derek hated the look on his face. “That’s the working assumption. Chris filed a missing persons and my father filed an attempted murder charge. So far, she hasn’t turned back up but everyone in the pack knows who she is and what she’s done.” There was a small pause. “Sans your name because you were a minor and I refused to tell them when it held no relevance to why she’d gone nuts.”

Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees and covered his face. He’d managed to rein the shift back in to not have to worry about claws at least. The fact that she could be anywhere out there truly bothered him. Kate had far too many years to plan revenge against him and Stiles both. She had been good at playing the slow game with Derek so fuck knows when she’d actually return. And it  _ was  _ when. Not if. She wasn’t the type to let things just go. It also touched him that Stiles hadn't told them who he was. That he hadn't given them his weakest parts, laid bare for their judgement before they'd even met him. 

Derek hadn’t even realized Stiles had moved out of his protective bubble until a gentle hand was resting on his shoulder. “Don’t worry Eyebrows, everyone had immediate lethal action orders when it comes to her. They see her, they confirm it’s her, they kill her. If they cannot confirm, then they tranq her and deliver her to my father’s _luxury hotel cell_ right away.” 

He slowly looked up into those deep amber eyes, letting his words sink in. He wondered if it was a bad sign that he felt nothing at the thought of her being massacred without hesitation. The fact of the matter was simple really; she’d failed to burn the Hale’s alive but there were plenty of horrid success stories that came before that. 

He took comfort in the hand on his shoulder, swallowing around the lump in his throat before nodding. “Yeah? Sounds like a fucking wonderful plan. How about dessert and that movie? I think we’ve dealt with enough of the heavy shit, don’t you?” He needed to stop before he had an actual breakdown. Stiles didn't deserve to see that. 

Derek kind of hated it when Stiles took his hand back but really, as amazing as the other alpha had been in his explanations, despite the obvious pain and discomfort it caused him, he should just be fucking thankful Stiles had comforted him at all, instead of leaving him to wonder about Kate and what would happen if she were to show up. Especially after threatening to kill him. He was starting to realize the man was only an asshole when he really felt he needed to be. Like an instinct. 

“Finally! I’ve been dying for some of that apple caramel cake ever since you guys told us about it. I hope it lives up to my taste buds dreams,” Stiles said with a little bit of a laugh, heading back towards the abandoned dining room. 

Popping up, he followed Stiles with a snort. “It should considering Boyd has a bachelor’s in Baking and Pastry Arts. He’s also got an associate’s in general culinary arts. Bastard can make you cry with the things he makes.” The pride for his brothers abilities was unmistakable. Boyd worked damn hard for his degrees after all. He’d dual majored for his associates but only went for one bachelor’s. 

Stiles looked over his shoulder with surprise and  _ giddiness  _ written all over his face . “That is  _ so  _ fucking cool! I wish I would’ve done something impressive like that in college. I am so going to end up hitting him up for food stuffs all the time since I never stop eating…” 

The dining room looked like a scene out of a horror flick as they entered. Everything was simply abandoned where it’d been set down. Like the zombie apocalypse had come and no one cared to clean before they ran for cover. All that was missing was the mold and the flies. “Fuck. Putting shit away  _ and then  _ dessert,” he muttered as he set to work. 

Derek started helping without hesitation but he couldn’t lie, he found himself very curious as to Stiles college career now. He seemed highly intelligent. Surely he didn't waste it? He must have done something with his great brain. He debated with himself for all of thirty seconds before deciding he really wanted to get to know the other man. “What  _ did  _ you do in college?” 

He saw Stiles chew on his lip as they worked before sighing deeply, shaking his head as he finally seemed to decide something internally. “I’ve dreamed of opening my own shop for a long time. When Deaton started teaching me some of the healing things I could make back in high school kind of long. I knew I’d have the money by the time I was twenty, even if I went to college. Especially when you stop to factor in scholarships… I knew though, that no college offered any sort of degree for that kind of thing so I decided to get a degree in something I’d enjoy. A Ph.D. in Mythological Studies with Emphasis in Depth Psychology seemed kind of perfect for the weird mythos geek who loved to study people.” 

Derek’s green eyes widened greatly as he looked Stiles over. Jesus Christ, a Ph.D? At twenty-four? “Okay, I’m confused. How the  _ fuck  _ is that  _** not  ** _ impressive? You have a Ph.D. At twenty-four. That makes you Doctor Stiles Stilinski. I’m pretty sure that trumps Stiles Stilinski: Alpha of Beacon Hills any day.” 

Stiles blushed beautifully, busying himself with putting the last of the food away before pulling out two small plates and placing a slice of cake and a cupcake on each. He smelled of embarrassment and it confused Derek. A degree like that wouldn’t have been easy to acquire and yet Stiles acts almost ashamed of it when he should be more than proud. 

“Not a lot of people actually know I have my Ph.D.,” he admitted softly, handing one of the plates to Derek. He grabbed two bottles of water, handing one of them to Derek too. “A lot of them think I stopped at my Masters, since I graduated with that right before opening my shop but I just...I couldn’t…” 

Derek frowned a little as they headed back into the living room. They decided to share the couch this time at least. “You couldn’t what?” 

“ I couldn’t leave it there. There was  _ so much more  _ I wanted to learn. I loved mythology even before learning just how much of it is real. It was, umm. It was something my mom got me into with bedtime stories that were wildly inappropriate for a child like the great love of Eurydice and Orpheus or the story of Lycaon. Actually, now that I think about it, there were a _lot_ of wolf related bedtime stories...,” he admitted with a little shrug, looking down at his plate. Then he grinned. “For my doctoral dissertation, I wrote about Harry Potter. It was titled ‘Who Invited Harry? A Depth Psychological Analysis of the Harry Potter Phenomenon’.” He blushed and cleared his throat. “Myths about heroes involve early parental loss, tests and trials, mentors, battles against evil, and night-sea journeys during which self-awareness deepens. Rowling’s books share these plot similarities, while they engender phenomenal attention and commercial success. Amplification of the archetypal and mythic themes in the books may explain their compelling hold in pop culture. My dissertation asked “Who needs Harry Potter, with his adventures, challenges with evil and decision making?” Ultimately, I proposed that we have invited Harry, and he’s shown up.” 

He was touched that Stiles was willing to share such a personal detail with him. To talk about his mother like that. 

Derek couldn’t believe it. He was fairly certain his inner literary nerd was having a freaking stroke. He wondered if Stiles would let him read his dissertation. He had a feeling it would be as long as one of Rowling’s books. It just seemed like the kind of writer the other man would be. Thorough and well thought out, putting as much effort as he deemed necessary into something he was passionate about. 

After a moment, the shock had worn off enough to actually reply to what Stiles had told him. “You became Dr. Stiles Stilinski by writing about Harry Potter? I am honestly and truly impressed by that. I loved reading Harry Potter growing up. Fuck, I  _ still  _ love reading Harry Potter,” he admitted with a bit of a laugh, small smile curling up the corner of his lips. 

Stiles was sitting with his legs folded under each other so he sat his plate on his lap, that way he could cover his scarlet face as he sputtered unintelligibly. “I---you---but-- _what?_ Most people laugh at me or call me childish when they find out that’s what I wrote about. Jackson actually asked when I was going to grow up. I kind of made him regret that. A _lot._ And then I stopped talking about it.” His words would be hard to parse out if not for his preternatural hearing with Stiles' hands covering his face. 

Derek reached over with his free hand, gently pulling one of Stiles' off so he could look him in the eye and show just how sincere he was. “Yeah, well, he’s a dumbass then. To prove it, why don’t we marathon the movies? They’re not as good as the books but hey, beggars can’t be choosers there. And then tomorrow we can deal with all the problems we really didn’t solve today.” 

Stiles heart was still hummingbird quick but steady and his scent was slowly softening back into a mellow sort of content with a slight tang of nervousness, even if he showed no outward signs. Derek realized that Stiles heart was always quicker than most though. It’d been like that every time he’d been with him. 

“Anyone ever tell you that you have genius ideas Derek Hale?” Stiles said softly, not disagreeing with his delineation of Jackson. He had a feeling that before Jackson turned, they’d had a lot of problems with each other. Probably still did, to a degree, but pack changed a lot of that. 

Derek snorted. “Mind telling  _ all  _ of my sisters that? Tristan too? Start with Laura.”

Stiles rolled his eyes, grabbing the controller to his movie drive. Derek raised a brow as he scrolled through his frankly exorbitant amount of folders. “I definitely will. I think it’d be fun to see what Cora’s like now. I kind of missed you guys...after…,” Stiles admitted before giving a little ‘Aha!’ and grinning. Derek didn’t need to ask after what. “Finally! I thought I’d never find the right damn folder. Scott organized all of this shit. I really need to sort through and redo it. Organization is not his strong suit.” He paused. “Not mine either. Maybe I should make Danny do it.” 

Derek laughed a little, shaking his head before sinking blunt teeth into sweet frosting and moist cake, letting out the softest of content sighs. Boyd could work magic in the kitchen. He had a way of taking simple things and mixing them together to create masterpieces. “For some reason, I really don’t think you’d manage to organize much better, no. You know, Cora could come visit if you’d like. Thanksgiving break, she’d have time for a couple days to come here.” 

Stiles gave him a glare without any actual heat behind it and a seriously impressive growl as the lights along Private Drive went out thanks to Dumbledore’s deluminator, the tabby of McGonagall silently judging him for his life choices, kind of like Laura enjoyed doing. The place where it all began. He could remember burrowing into his blankets with the books on his bad days growing up. Sure, the movies are great and he loved watching them, but he  _ always  _ found his solace in books. They were the one place no one could touch him, where the problems of the outside world didn’t exist.

“That would be nice. She’s still in college?” he asked, tilting his head. Derek could understand why he would be a little confused. They were the same age after all and he’d already managed to get his Ph.D. Most degrees didn’t take six years to get.  

He nodded. “After graduating she went to live with our aunt Susanna and her pack down in South America for two years. An extended gap year. She’ll be graduating after this year.” 

A thought popped into his mind and he chuckled. He was about to vocalize it but before he could, Stiles let out the most lascivious sound next to him. When his eyes snapped to the other alpha, he realized the reason he’d moaned out like that was because he’d finally started in on his slice of caramel apple cake. Boyd would be happy he’d brought another person to their metaphorical knees. 

“Is it as orgasmic as you’d hoped? Should I give you a moment to change your pants?” he teased, smirking at him. 

Stiles eyes opened wide when he realized what he’d done. His hand slapped over his mouth, embarrassment creeping out of his pores but not nearly overwhelmingly so like he’d almost expected. “Fuck,” he muttered through those obscenely long fingers. “I don’t suppose your brother has any plans on opening his own bakery here because  _ damn _ .”

The way Stiles said that made it seem like he’d already decided if they’d be allowed to stay, even if it might only be subconsciously. Derek could work with that. Hopefully whatever else they needed to agree on, it wouldn’t cost his pack too much overall. 

“I know he’s dreamed of it but it wasn’t really an option back in Norwich. And now that we’re our own pack, I don’t think any of us would feel comfortable asking our mother, or her pack really because that’s where it would come from, for the money to start one here,” he admitted with a soft sigh. Neither of them were really paying attention to the movie at this point, each sitting against an arm of the sofa with their bodies slightly turned towards each other so they could watch both the movie (which, really, was more like gentle but familiar background noise) and each other as they talked. His pack had money, sure, but the start up cost to open a store would be a little much for them at this point sadly, with none of them having jobs yet. 

“ Mhm,” Stiles hummed distractedly, acknowledging that he’d heard him but offering no further commentary of his own. He looked deep in thought though so he turned his attention back to Dursley’s consummate breakdown, talking about how there’s no post on Sunday’s (which really, will probably go down in history as one of the most famous lines the actor said). Vernon Dursley was someone to be despised, but Richard Griffiths was not. It made him sad for a moment to see him on screen and know he’s not out in the world somewhere with his  _ real  _ family, happy. It was the same sadness he felt when he saw Richard Harris portray Dumbledore throughout the first two movies, knowing he never got to finish what defined a generation. 

He knew if it’d been Richard Harris and not Michael Gambon playing the great Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore ( _what a mouthful!_ ), the last six movies would’ve been drastically different. Especially that  _ fucking scene  _ in the Goblet of Fire. He was pretty sure  _**no one**   _ was ever going to let that one go. He sure as shit wasn’t. Harry was like a damn son to that man, and he’d never flip on a student like that anyway. He wasn’t that kind of person. 

Derek looked over at Stiles, who was obviously doing some thinking of his own, and wondered if the man had any clue what Derek was really like, under his “tough” exterior. Under the scruff he forgot to shave more days than not and the leather jackets and tight but so fucking  _ soft  _ and comfortable henleys and jeans he loved to wear. It was armor to keep people he’d rather not deal with away (which only actually worked if his scowled or glared hard enough actually), and part habit as well from the person he’d tried to become after Kate, before he’d found his grounding forces. 

Would Stiles be surprised to know that he could sing the entire Hogwarts school song (and sing it well)? Or that he owned the entirety of the Chronicles of Narnia? That he knew the answer to the ultimate question of life, the universe, and everything (which is forty-two by the way)? Derek was a freaking onion damn it! (Yeah, he owned Shrek too but that was more his nieces fault.) He just hated people too much to let them get past the first layer or two. He’d been hurt too often by too many. 

He scratched lightly through his beard, shaking his head a little. He couldn’t understand why he kept thinking of Stiles like this. He could vaguely remember hearing Cora tell stories about him as they grew up and had met him a few times, if not around town, then at those picnics in the park things his mother and Claudia (“It’s Claudia, Derek. Not Mrs. Stilinski. You’ve known me long enough to have earned that much by now,” she’d gently chastised him when he’d been what, thirteen? She’d gotten sick so soon after that.) insisted on having as a way to make sure both families "got out". He’s pretty sure the little boy ran around like he was on speed and fast enough to give some of the wolves pause. That was all he really knew about him though, at least from before today. 

He was  _ so  _ out of his fucking depth at this point. 

Derek was broken out of his absentminded musings when Stiles cleared his throat, seeking his attention. His eyes snapped to those shining amber ones, tilting his head slightly to show he was listening. “Mhm?” 

“ Okay so like, my pack and I have done really well for ourselves. Mostly because Jackson is our accountant. He once forced Scott to deposit all his money into a secondary account and gave him a weekly allowance after he went a little insane and spent nearly $20,000 in a month. On freaking literally the stupidest shit. And this is coming from  _** me! ** _ ” He laughed, shaking his head at the memory, rolling his eyes before turning serious again. “One of our pack’s biggest rules is that you must always pursue what makes you  _ happy  _ as long as it’s not a danger to yourself, the pack or those we’ve swore to protect. The thing is, if you guys stay...you’ll be, _at the very least_ , considered pack adjacent. So that rule? It’ll apply to you too. Danny, Jackson and I all started our own businesses while Scott inherited the vet clinic from Deaton when he retired...to fucking  _ Maine _ . If Boyd would seriously be happy opening his own bakery or cafe or  _ whatever _ , then  ** _ I  _ ** would be happy to front the money for it. As a gift if he’d let me, or a loan with no interest and no time constraints if not. I would do the same for you, Erica and Isaac too if you had similar passions. Happily.” The look of sure open kindness and sincerity was a little daunting.

Derek listened with a small frown, which was about as neutral as his face got anymore. He was struggling to really process just what Stiles was saying, offering. “And what’s the catch?” Because Derek knew how the world worked. There was absolutely nothing for free. Not even information came for free. 

Stiles sighed, running his fingers through his hair and said, “There’s  _** no  ** _ catch. Though there is a  _** request ** _ . Allow Danny to install his security systems and me to install mine. The same as every building we own have. And consider using Jackson to keep your books. He’s a genius with money, if not much else. I would really just like you guys happy if you stayed. But that’s more for tomorrow I guess. We’re supposed to be drowning in nostalgia and getting fat on Boyd’s sins. Moments like these, I thank  _ all  _ the gods and goddesses for having a high metabolism, because otherwise I’d be waddling through those woods.” 

Derek laughed a little at the picture of Stiles waddling through the woods. It was strangely easy to imagine. Not him being “fat” but just the waddling. A hand on his lower back while Derek followed him, listening to him complain about how it was all his fault and he was never allowing Derek to touch him again and Boyd was his new best friend and wasn’t that a strange thought? Clearing his throat, he replied, “Like I said before, they’re their own people. This is an offering you’ll have to make to them, not me, because it’s in no way my decision. It’s Boyd’s, and I guess Erica’s too since they’re married. Happiness is important to you, isn’t it?” 

“ Oh, they’re married? Huh. Makes a lot of sense actually. The way they seemed almost drawn to each other despite being a part of two completely different conversations. I take it they’re mates too?” Stiles hummed, nodding his head a little as he continued his torturous endeavour of eating his fucking dessert. It was cruel, the way Stiles flipped the spoon over absently in his mouth, sucking to get every bit of caramel off before slowly pulling it out with a please hum.  _ Asshole.  _ "Happiness is, well, it means a lot to me. Losing so much, so young, I turned into a bitter ball of rage for a while. Therapy helped a lot. Like a  _lot,_ a lot. And then I realized that I wanted to help people and that I wanted to make them happy so they never had to feel what I felt, ya know?" 

Derek took a long drink of his water to distract himself and wet his suddenly dry throat. Imagining sexual things with someone who is not sexually attracted to you is kind of frustrating but really, he knew it was more that he could imagine other things as well, and _that_  made it truly frustrating. “Yeah, they’re high school sweethearts. I guess they knew  _ of  _ each other, had a few classes together, but never started talking until we all became friends. I got held back a year because of the whole Kate thing so I only graduated two years before them but I didn’t go to college until they did. They had the wedding between freshman and sophomore year of college,” he explained. “They’d completed the mating when they turned eighteen though.” He couldn’t help but smile really. At first he’d been  _ furious  _ about being held back because he’d missed a lot of school between the investigation, the trial, and the move but then he met three vulnerable outcasts, just like him and it didn’t seem like such a problem anymore. “You noticed that though? Usually it’s a really subtle thing… Like the kind of thing only people who really know them tend to notice.” 

The peel of laughter that came from Stiles was like a song you haven’t heard in a long time. Something familiar that makes you smile and wonder why you’d stopped listening to it in the first place. The laughter next to him wasn’t loud but what was ringing through his memory was. It was louder, a little higher pitched, more childlike but all  _ Stiles _ . He could almost picture the little boy running around with his younger siblings, laughing like that, rolling around in the grass with Cora, a grin always on his face. 

“ Son of the sheriff,” he winked, "or did you forget how awesome my dad is?” He let out another little laugh, obviously teasing. “Honestly though? I’ve spent eight years watching Scott and Allison do the same damn thing. Hell while Scott was talking to Isaac? I could feel him nearly constantly checking on Allison through the pack bond because he wasn’t facing her. It’s not even something he consciously does at this point. It can get really freaking annoying sometimes if he doesn’t remember to focus  _ only  _ on her.” 

Derek’s eyebrows pulled together in absolute confusion. Each time Stiles spoke of their pack bond, he got the sense that it wasn’t like most. Then again, their pack wasn’t like most. “I’m not going to lie, I don’t understand your pack bond in the least because that is not how a normal pack bond works. And last I checked, Allison was even more human than you?” 

“ Remember that tattoo I got on my eighteenth birthday?” he asked, chewing on the flesh around one of his thumbs. He  _ had  _ to have an oral fixation and this had to be some sort of punishment. It really had to be. 

Derek nodded, confused frown still in place. 

“We had a super weird bond when I killed the alpha. His spark interacted with mine. Before that, it was just a title but then it was like an actual feeling but it was so weak because I'm human. But if you bit me and I survived? The working theory from Deaton is that I would be an alpha without me having to kill anyone else. Because there’s already an alpha spark bonded to my spark,” Stiles told him, rambling, having to set his plate down to talk with his hands. 

“There’s a way to bind people together, a way to forge a pack bond, and a way to turn the bond into a...homing beacon. Lydia figured out how to combine them all into one binding spell that could be made into our pack symbol and tattooed onto each pack member to extend the bond to each of them.” 

“Wait, so what would you do if someone left the pack? Is there a way to, break the bond, like with a normal pack?” he asked, setting his own plate down as well so he could focus entirely on the conversation in front of him. His body even turned more towards the younger male. This was something so strange yet so interesting. 

Stiles started chewing on his lip again, something Derek was starting to realize was a sign he was thinking...or maybe hesitant to answer. “In theory? Yes. We’re very leary about who we let into the pack though and really, even when you’re in, it doesn’t mean you get a tattoo. Kira, the kitsune in Japan? She is the first outsider to get a tattoo. She was pack for nearly a year before we felt the time was  _ right _ . And then there’s Chris who is  _ technically  _ pack but will  _** never  ** _ be getting a binding tattoo.” 

“ How is he  _ technically  _ anything?” 

Sighing, Stiles shrugged a little, leaning his shoulder more into the couch as he tucked his feet under himself more comfortably. “He’s still Allison’s father and part of the hunter alliance. Personally, I’d like him to be _technically_ dead most days. He falls into the parental pack, subpack, whatever, even if mom and dad hardly speak to him. No one else’s parents know. Even though they’ve almost found out several times over the years.” 

Derek let out a startled laugh. He got the feeling Stiles could be a real dick to people he didn’t like. He also got the feeling he should  _ never  _ let Stiles and Peter  _ anywhere  _ near each other. They’d either plot to kill each other or everyone else. He could just see it now and  _ that  _ was absolutely terrifying. 

“You know, I think I’d like him more if he hadn’t endangered us more than he’d saved us. Thankfully the Argent dynasty is matriarchal so Allison is in charge. Which, watching her order Chris around? Is the greatest thing ever,” he snickered, grinning. 

Their conversation slowly petered off until they were fully focused on watching Harry try to come to terms with all that was hidden from him as he was growing up, as well as learning how to cope with all his new skills and sudden fame. It was surprisingly peaceful and comfortable sitting there, with Stiles running a quiet commentary and Derek inserting a few words here and there. And when the silence was there, it wasn’t awkward. 

Before they could start the second one, Erica texted, demanding they get home so she could get her damn beauty sleep. She threatened to leave without him. Until Derek oh so kindly reminded her that  _ he  _ had the fucking keys. He still went though because he wanted to end the night on a good note. 

  
  


  


  
  


** From The Asshole: **

Hey Eyebrows, I know yesterday

was rough and I was going to 

give you guys today to process 

but!

  
  


** From The Asshole: **

There’s a new dead body 

chilling out in the middle of

the friendly streets of good

ole Beacon Hills.

  
  


** To The Asshole: **

That Big Bad that you said

was a bigger threat than us

and was why you were an

asshole? 

  
  


** To The Asshole:  **

We’ve just been unpacking

so it’s not like you’re

interrupting. We’ve never

fought anything other than

a human or werewolf but

I do know every single inch

of these woods? 

  
  


** From The Asshole: **

Mmm I can’t argue that 

you may be the only one

to know these woods better

than me. 

  
  


** To The Asshole:  **

I should hope so. I spent 15

years running through them. 

  
  


** From The Asshole: **

To be fair, you have an

/unfair/ advantage. I can’t

exactly run like you. Come

over? And maybe bring the 

pack? We can go over

  
  


** From The Asshole: **

Things and then spar. 

Give you guys a bit of

a chance to learn how to 

fight against different types

of enemies as well as the

kinds of things we train 

for and with. 

  
  


** To The Asshole: **

We’ll be there.

  
  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your kind words, and kudos. I really hope y'all aren't losing interest and I hope that I'm able to get the next chapter out faster.


End file.
